


Love Letters

by Viola_Laterra



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Academia, Arches National Park, Bananagrams, Camping, Canonical Character Death, During Canon, F/F, F/M, First Time, Gen, Grand Canyon National Park, Hurt/Comfort, Indigenous rights, M/M, Memorial Day, Missing Scene, Multi, New York City, Polyamorous Steve Rogers, Resolved Sexual Tension, San Francisco Bay Area, Self-Defense, Superheroes Are People Too, Swing Dancing, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Washington D.C., Yosemite National Park, ecosexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 132,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viola_Laterra/pseuds/Viola_Laterra
Summary: Steve Rogers has a new world to understand – one that's moved seventy years ahead of him.  Just how he comes to be more comfortable with the twentieth century has to do with the people he meets, and Ella is one of those people.  She shares with him all the things she loves about her world and time, and it helps him find his own place in it.  Ella, for her part, is surprised to find that despite his fame and superhuman abilities, Steve is underneath it all not so different from her and those she loves. Their connections to each other, and to other friends and loved ones, weave a safety net which can catch them when they would otherwise fall....A long-form piece which, told largely through Ella's eyes and correspondence, is one part love letter to MCU's Steve Rogers, and one part love letter to the ideas, places, things, and people that matter to me.  Note that there is minor violence in one scene (one character knocks another unconscious), but I felt that did not warrant "Graphic Depictions of Violence."  Also note that beginning in Chapter 42, there are spoilers for Avengers: Endgame.





	1. Chapter 1

### Prologue

"Did you do anything fun Saturday night?" asked Romanov slyly as Steve suited up.

He looked at her sideways. "Well, all the guys in my barbershop quartet are dead, so, no, not really."

Romanov smirked. "You know, if you asked Kristen out from statistics, she'd probably say yes."

He sighed as he put his helmet on and buckled it in place, but she didn't hear him over the roaring of air as the plane's exit ramp opened. She always insisted on this kind of banter, even when they were in the middle of high-precision, potentially deadly activities. Sometimes it did lighten the mood. Tonight, though, it just weighed on him. She would keep picking at him about his love life. "That's why I don't ask."

Not to be put off, she shouted back, "Too shy or too scared?" 

He flipped his shield onto his back and felt it snug magnetically into place. "Too busy," he tossed back over his shoulder, and stepped out of the plane.

As he plummeted towards the tossing, dark ocean below, even the thrill of the wind rushing past him didn't take away the bitter aftertaste of the conversation. In the two minutes he had to consider why, he thought to himself, maybe Natasha's onto something. It'd been a while since he’d had any... companionship. 

Not since New York, with Ella. He realized that had been months ago… and now they were both back in DC, so maybe he ought to call her? But who knew if she wanted to see him again. Though, she *had* written him that letter, which he did keep taking out and rereading, more often than he might care to admit. He’d been touched by the sentiments she’d shared, and by the old-fashioned sensibility she’d channeled in writing it. In the world of 2014 where everyone text messaged each other, you just didn’t see a hand-written paper letter anymore. Maybe he *should* call her up...

But then the water was too close for indulgent thinking. Yep, too busy, he thought, and prepared to plunge deeply into the sea. The shock of the impact and cold water, and the focus required to get it just right, locate the anchor line of the Lemurian Star, and do tonight's job drove the bitterness from his mind. Later, maybe.

### Part One

_December 12th, 2012_

_Dear Ethan,_

_I don't know if I'm going to send you this letter. Sometimes I write them and never send them. But the act of physically writing out how I feel, addressing it to someone... it helps me see what I need to do._

_The last two years together has been wonderful. I feel like we had some great times, and we got through some hard times. You understand my research, my life's work, like no one else I know. We are surprisingly compatible. It seems, on the face of it, like we should stay together, in the long term._

_But then I think about you going back to the UK. And I think about my new job starting soon in Washington DC. And how that is only the beginning for each of us in this next phase of our careers. And I just can't imagine how we can make this work._

_So... maybe this is it for us. I didn't want to be the one to call it. But I think it would be better for us to end this part of our relationship. I hope we'll keep in touch, but I know that realistically we'll both be really busy, and... sometimes I find it takes a while to get over the pain, before you can try to reconnect. I do hope that someday we can reconnect._

_I wish you well, in all things. I think maybe I won't send you this letter. I should at least call you and tell you in person. But at least now I know what to say._

_Love,_

_Ella_

~*~

Ella waited nervously for the phone to ring. Artemis was her best friend, but this was a bigger ask than usual.

"Hello?" Ella smiled, even through her nervousness. Art's voice was bright. Ella noted all the usual feelings that came up when she thought of Artemis. Her friend since fifth grade; someone who knew her intimately, and someone Ella knew she could always count on, no matter what. She said, "Hi, Art, it's Ella."

"Hey, Ella! What's up?" Artemis was, as always, happy to hear from her.

Still... "Well, you know I'm all settled in DC, right? My USAID fellowship is in full swing, and I’m past a bunch of my first deadlines. You said you wanted me to come visit you in New York, so..."

Artemis laughed. "Yes, of course! I definitely want you to come visit."

Ella swallowed. "So... just how long of a stay would be okay?" Artemis responded in the way Ella expected: "As long as you want."

Okay, no way to avoid it. "Is a month too long?" Ella asked.

Artemis said, "No, that's no problem." She paused for a moment. Ella knew that meant she must be doing some mental calculations. "I was thinking you'd sleep on the couch, if you came for a night or something... I'll have to set up the futon in the office if you're going to stay that long."

Ella said cautiously, "If it's any problem, I can..."

Artemis interrupted. "No! God, you are so silly about this sort of thing. It will be totally worth it. I'll just work in my bedroom if I need to. But most of the work right now is interviews, field stuff, anyway."

Ella smiled. Artemis was a media scholar. She'd done her undergraduate degree at USC in their film program, and now she'd gotten a grant to do a documentary on the recent rash of stage adaptations of movies. So she'd managed to set up shop in Manhattan for some time to do the groundwork for the piece. Pretty sweet deal, Ella thought.

"Field stuff, right," she said, knowingly. Artemis laughed and said, "Okay, fine, so obviously I don't mean like you do. We can't all travel to exotic places for our work."

Ella laughed, too. "I don't know, Manhattan's pretty exotic for a California girl..." referring to both of them, of course, having grown up in the San Francisco Bay Area and having gone to college in Southern California. Artemis said, "But it's not Southeast Asia."

Ella admitted, "No, it's not. Point taken." Ella's work involved a community in Borneo, and she'd traveled there to collaborate with them on studying the economics of ecotourism and the risk of encroaching palm oil plantations. 

Artemis broke her train of thought, "So, why are you coming to town?" Ella sighed. "Well, you remember I met Masa at that short course in Santa Fe?"

"Yeah," Artemis said absently, clearly in the middle of something while chatting with Ella. This was a typical pattern for them, over the years: one of them would call the other, and a long conversation would develop during which one or the other of them would start doing house chores. It sounded like Art was cooking dinner. Ella went on, "Well, Masa's at Columbia University, and he invited me to come be on a panel they're doing."

"Oh? What about?" Artemis asked. Ella sighed again. "That's the thing... it doesn't really have a theme, just something vague about 'interdisciplinary work'... you know, it's hot in academia now to say you're doing that kind of work."

"Tell me about it," Artemis said. "Half the time they don't know what they mean. Who else is on the panel?"

Ella brought up the list from the email. "Someone working on the history of industrial technology... Someone working on global geography and the distribution of people and resources... Actually, that could have interesting connections with my work. The scope of his work is much broader than mine, of course, and more top-down than what I've been doing... " She trailed off as she read the last name.

Art asked, "What? Is that all of them?"

"No..." Ella said thoughtfully. "Jane Foster. Why do I know that name?"

Art laughed at her. "You don't remember?" Ella said, "No, I mean, it's familiar, but I can't place it."

"You don't watch the news enough. She was involved in all that craziness in London, last month."

Ella's memories resurfaced. Yes... that was right. A quick Internet search for Jane's research showed that she'd published a number of physics conference papers on the phenomena she'd observed. Ella whistled, and said, "Yeah... she's a theoretical physicist. Some really heady stuff... Wormholes, honest-to-god pathways from one side of the universe to another. Unprecedented gravitational anomalies, and the like. But... that's not very interdisciplinary. That can't be the reason she's on the panel." 

Ella poked at some other search results while Art said, "I don't know, this sounds like a list of people random folks at Columbia knew." Then Ella found it: Thor had been involved with the events in London. And the popular press was absolutely dripping with speculation about the relationship between him and Jane. 

Ella’s mind wandered to the bizarreness of the events in New York last year and the wave of widespread obsession over the Avengers that had followed. It was still hard to believe that there had really been an alien attack on the city, but there had been news footage that pretty clearly showed what had happened... and if it was all true, the people of the world *did* owe Thor and the others a debt of gratitude. Still, it made them essentially celebrities, and anyone who might be connected to them became automatically famous. You never knew what people like the Avengers, or people they worked with, were really like in person. Ella felt a little shiver of nervousness about meeting Jane.

She remembered to respond to Artemis about the panel, though. "Yeah, but that's how panels like this happen, anyway, right? Just the people that people know." Artemis made an affirmative noise and Ella heard the sizzle of vegetables going into a pan in the background. The sound brought her thoughts back into her normal everyday life. She'd gotten her ideas around vegetarianism from Artemis, and she had to admit, part of why those ideas had taken hold was because Art was an exceptional cook. When vegetarian cooking tasted that good... it made you not miss eating animal flesh.

Ella said, "Well, whatever, it's an excuse and they're paying for my travel up there. And I've always wanted to see Manhattan in the winter."

Art laughed. "So far that just means piles of grungy snow on street corners. I hope you won't be disappointed."

Ella sighed and shook her head. "You know I won't be disappointed... it means I'll get a chance to spend a little time with you, too." Art's smile was almost audible as she said, "You're so sentimental. But yes, it will be good to see you too. Even if we both have a bunch going on."

They went on to discuss the dates and specifics, and Ella was excited to feel like she had a plan. Excited to see her friend, excited to be in the city... not so sure about the panel, but excited to work with her colleagues at Columbia. The visit had a lot of potential, she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

A month and a half later, when Ella finally arrived at the conference center for the panel, it turned out she was really early, by more than an hour. She hadn’t been sure about her ability to get herself to the venue on the New York City Subway on her own, so she’d allowed way too much time. 

She'd only been to New York one time before, with a friend who had done all the driving... and this time she’d also come straight from the airport, so the subway seemed like an ideal way to get to the conference center. She usually really enjoyed riding trains (and had heard so many stories, both good and bad, about the New York subway), but the stress of working out how to get to where she needed to go and the inevitable strain of preparing for a talk meant that her impressions of the train system were blurry. And she was, perhaps, just a little nervous about meeting Jane Foster.

So Ella was just as relieved to have some quiet time before the panel. She buried herself in reviewing her presentation. She found that what helped most with public speaking was to review what was in her slides and what she was going to say, and she always memorized the first sentence of her talk. It was good to practice it at least once on the day of the presentation itself, too. However, she'd only been sitting there about twenty minutes when someone said, "Excuse me?" 

Ella looked up from her notes. "Yes?" she responded to the pretty, average-height woman standing there; with a flutter of nervousness, Ella recognized Jane from her photos online. "Can I help you?" Ella asked.

Jane bit her lip. "Are you here for the interdisciplinary panel?" Ella smiled and said, "Yes, I am. You must be Dr. Foster." She held out her hand to shake Jane’s.

Jane distractedly took her hand, shaking it firmly. "It's nice to meet you," she said. "Do you know where we're supposed to go?" Ella shook her head, and said, "No. But we could look around together?" Jane smiled – Ella thought she had a nice smile – and nodded. So they struck out wandering around the conference center looking for signs of their panel.

Ella had always thought that conference centers were like business-world labyrinths – every corridor, room, and atrium strangely similar and equally interchangeable except for lettering... room 200A, 200B, 200C. Somehow conference centers could be ten times worse to navigate than college campuses. She was often tempted to take a Sharpie and start marking walls so she wouldn’t get lost.

This particular conference center was very convoluted. So it took Ella and Jane some time to even find a map, and their first few verbal exchanges were about the logistics of finding their way to the panel. After locating a map and consulting the emails the hosts had sent them and heading off in a more promising direction, a slightly awkward silence settled over them. As they walked, Ella wasn't sure how to strike up conversation with Jane, but she always felt uncomfortable when things were silent for too long.

"So, Dr. Foster..." Ella began. "Jane," she said absently. Ella smiled in response. "Jane. I’m Ella." Jane smiled at her and nodded. She seemed bothered by something, but Ella thought she ought to start with the basics. "How did you get invited to the panel?" 

Jane sighed. "Honestly... I don't really do interdisciplinary work. I'm a theoretical physicist!" she laughed in exasperation. Ella knew what she meant; it had seemed to her like an odd choice for this particular panel, too. Jane went on: "One of my friends is in the Physics Department at Columbia, and they’ve been getting crap from the administration for not doing enough public outreach. He knew I would be in town, and..." she trailed off, then stopped walking. Ella waited.

Jane sighed. "I kind of think it's my connections to the Avengers they're hoping to ask about. I guess some of that work could be thought of as interdisciplinary. And I’m guessing it’s going to bring in a larger audience, too, which the Physics folks will take credit for and milk for all it’s worth."

Ah, Ella thought. So her suspicions were confirmed that the Avengers were the reason Jane was on the panel. Or at least, that was what Jane suspected, too. That must feel pretty crappy for Jane – to work so hard, and have recognition come from an association she had rather than from her work.

Jane sighed again. “The thing is – I can't talk about what I'm working on with them, or with SHIELD. It's classified."

"So what do you think they'll ask you about?" Ella asked, a little concerned for Jane, and curious.

Jane threw her hands in the air and said, "I don't know! I mean, my physics work – the theoretical stuff, the stuff I can share – that's all available online, and it's not interdisciplinary!"

She sat down on a nearby bench and put her head in her hands. "I just don't know what to do. This has started happening, especially since London. I feel like they're... they're inviting me because of my connections with him, not because I'm doing good work in my own right."

Him... she must mean Thor. Ella wasn't really sure what to say, so she tentatively sat down next to Jane and waited. Jane took her face out of her hands and looked at Ella. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ... I don't know, overshare."

Ella smiled and shook her head. "No, no, it's no problem. I don't mind, and I won't say anything to anyone. And there's still no one else here, so you might as well get it out of your system." Jane laughed a bit, and Ella laughed with her.

Then Jane’s stomach growled loudly. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess I'm a bit hungry." Ella rummaged around in her bag, and came up with a protein bar. She always had extra emergency food. "Want one?" She offered it to Jane. "I mean, at things like this they feed you but it's usually all pastries, and well... one cannot live by pastries alone." Jane laughed and nodded, taking the bar, unwrapping it, and starting to scarf it down. Ella rummaged some more and found one for herself.

As she unwrapped it, she said to Jane, "I know what you mean about not being sure why you get invited to things, about wondering if it's your connections and not your work. Or…" Ella paused. "Or who you are, and not what your work is. Or what people think your work is." Jane looked at her questioningly. Ella wondered for a moment if she ought to share this with someone she just met, but Jane seemed to have some similar experiences. And Ella already felt a sort of camaraderie with Jane. So she went ahead.

"Well... I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m mixed-race?" Ella said. Jane looked at her carefully, chewing her protein bar. "Oh! Yes, I see it now... I’m sorry I didn’t notice at first," Jane said awkwardly.

Ella shook her head at Jane. "It’s okay. I get that all the time. I was raised in a predominantly white, affluent town. Most people just assume I’m white without thinking about it. And... I grew up not feeling all that different, really. I think I just learned to act like everyone else, and I didn’t even notice."

Jane nodded slowly. She said, "I mean, I obviously have no idea what it’s like on that level, but I definitely caught myself acting like 'one of the guys' in my physics classes. I must have been doing it all the time, though." 

Ella snorted, a little bitterly. "Yeah, I had the same problem in economics classes," she said. 

Jane laughed sadly. "Then you got it twice," she said. Ella nodded, "More than twice, actually... the combination of being a person of color, and being a woman in a male-dominated field... it’s more than the sum of its parts." Ella had later learned that the social science term for it was intersectionality. It hadn’t been until she was in grad school that she’d reviewed her time in undergrad and realized all the ways in which her identity had impacted her experience. Some of them weren’t so subtle, but she thought upon reflection that it was the subtle negative effects that had been most lasting.

But that was why she did the work she did now, and that was the point she was trying to make to Jane. "Anyway... so, sometimes I get invited to things because of diversity requirements, and... at the same time, I feel like I haven’t really stayed in touch with my heritage, anyway. It sometimes feels sort of... dishonest. So... for years now, I’ve been doing work with Indigenous people to try to help connect with that part of me."

Jane seemed out of her depth. "That’s really great of you," she said a little lamely. 

Ella wasn’t surprised at Jane’s reaction. Often people didn’t seem to know how to react when she told them this stuff, but Jane was doing a good job of listening, which was better than some people. So Ella figured she’d keep going.

She said, "Well, I find it really rewarding to help out people who have been disenfranchised. With my academic leverage, I can try to talk to aid agencies about how local people know better what would work for them than some outside organization could. I’ve been advocating for local solutions to be supported, not overridden by some one-size-fits-all solution from the top." Jane nodded again, clearly not sure what to say.

So Ella continued, "It does help me feel like I’m making a difference, and like I’m doing justice to the parts of my heritage that I haven’t done much with, at least when I was younger. And... that gets me back to the panel again... people have some idea of what my work is. Their image of it, and not what it really is." Ella paused for a moment, thinking about what she was about to present at the panel.

She sighed. “I think it just sounds flashy that I work with rural farmers in Southeast Asia using economic models. People don't really think about what it's actually like to be there, working with people... how hard it is, knowing how little they have in the way of resources to fight the things that are being done to them. Knowing that you come from the US and you could probably find ways to support their cause other than just academic work, except that would be like an entirely additional career on top of what you already do..." 

Jane nodded. Ella said, "I mean, they do such great work on their own to organize and act, I don't want it to sound like I'm saying they should be pitied... it's just, showing a pretty picture of the community all huddled around a computer looking at the model we made... it’s all well and good, and it's what people want to see... but the real experience of Indigenous people can be so different. I hate to do something flashy... it seems like I'm oversimplifying, maybe not doing justice to the work we're really doing on the ground. Sometimes it makes me ask why I’m presenting it this way, except I want to get the word out about their struggles, and their strength. And, well, you know," Ella paused. "This kind of visibility is necessary to support an academic career. Invited talks, and such."

Jane nodded as she chewed and swallowed the last of her protein bar. Then she said, "I mean, I don't have any experience working with people like that, but I know what you mean about having to appear a certain way in front of an audience, or in a written paper." She paused. "I've had to write things for particular audiences... and people know my father's work, too, so I've had to do a lot to make it clear that Dr. J Foster is someone different... Of course, I am. I am someone different." She seemed to trail off, and the look in her eyes was far away. Ella wasn't sure where Jane was going with this. Then Jane said, suddenly, "Lord. What would my father say, if he had seen me... up there."

Ella was confused. "Up there?" She asked. Suddenly Jane looked upset, and a bit wary, and said, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Ella shook her head, and responded, "It's okay, never mind."

Jane seemed to be struggling with something. Finally, she said, "Okay. I just have to say it to someone who isn't clearance level whatever." Ella raised her eyebrows and waited. Jane leaned in conspiratorially. "I went to Asgard. To Thor's home. I got to see their technology, and it’s... well, it’s incredible."

"Wow!" Ella exclaimed, way too loudly. They both shushed her. "Sorry, sorry!" Ella whispered excitedly. There went any lingering skepticism about whether Thor was really from another planet – Jane didn’t seem like someone to make up things like this. Should Jane be telling Ella this when they’d only just met, though? Of course, Ella had just shared her life story with Jane, so whatever. 

And it was really Jane’s problem rather than hers, if she wasn’t supposed to tell people, but just to be considerate, Ella said, "I won't tell anyone. You don't have to tell me anything else, I mean... that's really amazing." Jane smiled and nodded. "It was. And it's so hard not to be able to tell people. I mean – I'm a scientist, my job is to share my work...But... SHIELD swore me to secrecy on it, and... I think the Asgardians have a bit of a thing about not sharing their technology with other realms." Ella cracked a grin a bit at the use of the word "realm." Jane didn't notice.

"Anyway, I mean, Thor's been gone for a while... as far as I knew, the Avengers haven't seen each other since New York. But when he... left," she paused, looking sad, "He didn't say where he was going. I personally think they called him – that they were onto something that needed, I don't know, investigating. I kind of think they try to keep me out of the way when there's something going on. It's actually pretty frustrating." Ella nodded, suddenly in awe. She asked, "Have you met the others?" carefully ignoring the unspoken question of what Jane’s relationship with Thor was like. All the Avengers were rapidly becoming much more real to her.

Jane shook her head. "I've met Clint Barton, he was with SHIELD when I started working with them on the details of how the Bifrost works. I've video-chatted with Tony Stark about some things they learned about how the Tesseract works..." She was leaking information but Ella tried to ignore that. "And Natasha has my cell number, I think the idea was that she could let me know if Thor was with them and if they needed me." "Wow," Ella breathed. Again, the part about Jane’s relationship with Thor remained unspoken, despite an almost physical pressure on Ella’s part to want to ask.

Around this time, they noticed someone in a suit walking towards them along the long hallway. As he got closer, he breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "Ah, there you are! You're here for the panel, right?" They nodded. "We're just setting up – come with me!" With that, he turned and put his phone to his ear, paused a moment, and then said, "Found them – we're on our way." Jane and Ella gathered their things, smiled at each other, and stood. As he started off in a completely different direction, with some speed, they hurried to follow him. Jane said to Ella, "Thanks for listening... sort of a weird conversation, I know." 

"It's no problem!" Ella said. "I mean, I don't work with the people you work with, but... I do kind of understand how you feel about parts of it. And thanks for listening to me, too." Jane nodded, smiling, and then further conversation was cut off by their arrival at the location where the panel was taking place.

The next couple of hours was set-up, the panel itself, and an extensive round of audience questions. The whole thing was strangely disjointed... there were definitely speakers on the panel who thought really highly of themselves (the global geographer was particularly pompous, and interrupted a lot when any other panelist was talking), and there were audience members who really wanted to challenge the work the panelists were doing. It wasn't a welcoming atmosphere. Ella got some environmental justice folks asking her questions about her involvement with and commitments to the farmers she worked with, and though she tried to be open to constructive criticism, she definitely started feeling on the defensive. There wasn't much in the way of interdisciplinary dialogue, either between the panelists or between the audience and the panelists.

But in no way was it as bad for Ella as it was for Jane. It became clear that, as Jane had feared, they had invited her for her 'star-power'... and though there were a handful of theoretical physicists in the audience who asked her questions about her theories and observations, there were definitely more people asking about the Avengers, and about Thor, and about London. The moderator did a decent job of cutting off questions that seemed to be going in totally unprofessional directions, though Ella was really struck by how forward some of the questions were getting before the moderator stepped in. Jane looked unhappy.

To put it mildly, it wasn't the best panel Ella had ever sat on. But afterwards, she said to Jane, "Hey, want me to buy you a drink? Or dinner or something? You deserve a break after that." Jane nodded, looking exhausted. There had been plans for the panelists to go out to dinner together, but Ella and Jane bowed out of them. People didn't seem to fight them much on it; Ella thought the other panelists had probably also felt that the presentations and questions hadn't gone that well. It seemed like no one really wanted to keep talking to each other. She lamented inwardly the lost opportunity. Typical poor attempt at connecting across disciplines. Ah, well. It was pretty unsurprising, given that there had been basically no theme and therefore nothing to bring the panelists together around.

Ella pulled out her phone and looked up bars and restaurants nearby. She made some suggestions, and Jane picked one. They went off and had a nice dinner. Near the end of the evening, after Ella had sent the check off with her credit card, fending off Jane’s objections and protesting to her that she’d offered to buy, Jane got a text message.

"Fine, fine, you win," Jane said wearily, with a smile. She pulled out her phone – an old one, Ella saw, a flip phone. She smiled a little fondly: Jane wouldn't be the first highly technical person Ella knew to use old technology. Ethan, in particular, had been slow to adopt cellular technology in the first place. Didn’t like the interrupt-driven lifestyle it engendered, and the fact that almost no one planned ahead anymore because they could always call at the last minute. Ella couldn’t really disagree with that argument. But it had still made it hard to get ahold of him, sometimes. Back when they were still dating, anyway... Ella sighed.

Suddenly, Jane was beside herself with excitement. Ella realized Jane really did have a kind of impulsive side. "What is it?" Ella asked. Jane looked up at Ella, and her eyes were shining. "He's going to be here tomorrow! Natasha says they're all coming back to Avengers tower!"

Ella felt a little queasy. Jane had to mean Thor. "That's great, Jane!" Ella said brightly. Jane laughed and reached over and hugged Ella. She looked back at her phone. "Oh – wow, she says Tony's having a little party tomorrow night." Jane paused for a moment, looking thoughtfully at Ella. "Hey, would you like to come?"

Ella blanched. "Me? Why me?" Jane laughed, "Well, honestly? I feel a little awkward showing up there by myself. I've never been to one of these, but Thor's told me that Tony often invites random people he thinks are interesting. So it's not only the Avengers that will be there."

Ella stammered a bit and was then silent. "Please?" Jane said. Ella felt like she had no idea what she was getting herself into. But she really liked Jane, even though she’d only known her for about six hours. And maybe she was a little curious about the Avengers themselves, after meeting Jane and hearing more about them... and when would she ever get an opportunity like this again? If she said no, she’d be kicking herself forever. So Ella said, "Sure."

"Great!" Jane said brightly, and began laboriously typing into the phone’s keypad. A few minutes later, she said, "Okay, you're in. I'll meet you outside the tower at 8 pm tomorrow." Ella swallowed; she must mean Avengers Tower. She’d only seen it in news reports, and mostly when parts of it had been destroyed in the attack on New York.

"Sure! See you there!" Ella said, trying to muster a smile. Jane added, "And thank you so much for dinner!" "No problem," Ella said, with a little more energy.

"I'd better get going," Jane said, and stood up, gathering her things. Ella smiled and said, "Okay, see you tomorrow night!" And then Jane was gone.

Ella sat there numbly, waiting for the check to come back for her signature, and wondered what she was going to do. Meet the Avengers? What would she say to anyone? The check came, she signed it and put her card back in her wallet, and stood to go. She was so dazed that it was a wonder she found her way to Artemis' place.

Art'd let the security guard know she was coming, so he just let her in as she walked up to the glass entry doors to the Manhattan apartment building. "Hey!" Art said, greeting Ella from the mail room, laden with an armload of letters and mailers. As Ella got in the elevator with her and rode up to the tenth floor, Artemis said, "So, how was the panel?" Ella sighed, smiled, and leaned back on the elevator wall. "It's a long story," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Ella watched Art across the kitchen table. She’d always thought Art was beautiful – the way she moved, the styling she chose for her hair and clothes... so many countless little things Ella had noticed over the years. Art was slim and short; almost elfin but for curly red hair that was, at the moment, about shoulder length, and frizzy when she didn’t do anything in particular with it. This morning she’d pulled it back in a ponytail which somehow always looked more intentional than when Ella did so with her own hair. 

Ella thought back to the previous night, when after she’d recounted to Art the whole story about meeting Jane and getting invited to the party (omitting the details about Jane having been to Asgard), Art had led her to the guest room and pointed out the futon and sheets and towels. The place had only one bathroom, and as Artemis had hugged Ella and headed off to get ready for bed and Ella had waited for her turn in the bathroom, Ella had thought to herself that she’d have been more nervous about spending the night with Art, if she weren’t so exhausted from the day and nervous about the party the next night. The last time she’d spent the night with Art... well, she tried to put that from her mind. Art had been dating Andy for many years now, anyway, even though it was long-distance while Art was in New York. Ella suddenly realized she ought to ask about him.

She ate a few bites of her breakfast cereal and then said, "So, how’s Andy?"

Artemis glanced over from the newspaper she’d been studying. "He’s good. He’s thinking he might visit kinda soon, actually. You might overlap, near the end of your stay. Is that okay?"

Ella did have a momentary stab of jealousy. But Andy made Art happy, and he was exceedingly patient with Art’s itinerant tendencies (this was not the first time she’d gone off to live somewhere far away for a year). Plus, he was a genuinely likeable person, so it was hard to be too sour about him. Ella had made fun of his name when Art had first told her about him, though. "‘Art and Andy’? You sound like a kid’s show," she’d said. Artemis had just laughed. 

Ella reined in her thoughts and said, "Sure, that’s fine. I haven’t seen him in years, anyway. It’ll be nice to see him." Which was true enough. 

Eventually Ella finished picking away at her breakfast and sat down to make some calls to her friends at Columbia, arranging for when she’d come by to work with them, some seminars she could join, and some other activities they’d be up to next week. And somehow before she knew it, it was time to shower and get ready to go to the party at Avengers Tower.

After getting ready, Ella nervously checked and rechecked the subway transfers and schedules (not that anything followed the posted schedule anyway). Artemis laughed at her. "What?" Ella said. "Is it not a big deal to you that I'm going to meet the Avengers? I mean, maybe." Artemis shook her head, smiling, and opened her mouth to respond, but Ella kept going. "I mean, I don't really even know who is going to be there anyway. And Jane made it sound like lots of other people might be there too. I mean, they're famous. Right? That's a big deal. And what do I know... about anything? I was just randomly on a panel with Jane and met her yesterday! I mean, this is all totally crazy."

Eventually Art put her hands on Ella’s arms and stopped her. "And now you're going to miss your train. So go already!" Ella swallowed hard, threw her arms around Art and hugged her. Art gave Ella a nerdy thumbs up as Ella grabbed her messenger bag, slung her coat over her shoulders, and left.

Riding the train, Ella’s brain was awash in the white noise of adrenaline and excitement. Later, she didn’t really remember the ride at all, but somehow she did manage to get herself to Avengers Tower, by 8. Again, she was a little early. And Jane was a little late.

"Sorry!" Jane said as she trotted up. She did look a little frazzled, hair a bit out of place, but it was clear she'd dressed up as best she could: she was wearing loose black slacks and a soft-looking long-sleeved lavender sweater with an open neck. And actually, she looked pretty nice. Ella said so: "Hey Jane. You look great!"

"Really? Thanks!" Jane said in a rush. "I mean, I don't own very many nice things, but I had these with me, so..." Ella laughed and nodded. A few moments later, Jane added, "Oh! and you look nice too."

Ella looked down at herself. She was wearing a bunch of flowy layers in a variety of cool colors, mostly blues and greens, over a reasonably tight black shirt and a loose black skirt. "Thanks. I guess scientists don't usually think about dressing up for parties, right?" Jane laughed. "Yeah, it is kind of a stereotype for a reason," she said. "Shall we go up?" Jane asked, and Ella nodded nervously.

They stepped up to the doors together and they opened automatically. Ella started – it didn't seem like someone like Tony Stark would just let anyone walk in off the street as if the tower were some kind of supermarket. But the two of them went in.

They walked through another set of glass doors which opened for them into a reception area, and a polite disembodied voice with a British accent said, "Good evening, please proceed to the center elevator." Ella started and looked around but Jane smiled and looked up at the ceiling and said, "Jarvis, it's nice to meet you... um, in person I guess?"

"Indeed, Doctor Foster, it is a pleasure to have you here tonight as a guest. I believe they are eagerly awaiting your arrival above. You should proceed to the 92nd floor."

Ella was nonplussed, but followed Jane to the elevator. Jane seemed totally unfazed and as they got in the elevator, Ella said in a low voice to her, "Who was that?"

Jane looked at Ella, surprised. "Oh! Right, well, Jarvis is an artificial intelligence Tony created to run things..." Suddenly she stopped herself. "Uh, I guess I shouldn't really say more than that. That might be too much already. But at any rate, I've only interacted with him when I contacted Tony online. This is the first time I've, well, kind of met him in person." Ella nodded, impressed. She only knew so much computer programming, but she was familiar enough with it that the idea of an AI that sophisticated was pretty mind-boggling. Maybe not surprising, given common knowledge about Tony's technical skills, but still impressive.

As the elevator rose (quite smoothly but rapidly, Ella noticed), JARVIS said, "Doctor Foster, your room is also on the 92nd floor. You may leave your things outside the elevator and we will move them to your room." Ella suddenly realized Jane had luggage with her. "You get to stay here?" she asked, awed.

"Heh, yeah. I think Tony wants to work on something they found, or something they want to find, with me. Honestly, it's the first time I've met him in person, and I don't know what it will be like to work with him. He's... he's brilliant, but... after all the things I've heard about him, I really don't know how this is going to go."

Ella just listened. What could she possibly say? She was barely holding it together with just meeting these people, let alone imagining what it would be like to work with them. 

JARVIS spoke into the silence. "Doctor Foster, I have alerted Thor regarding your arrival. I believe he will be waiting for you by the elevator." Jane got visibly antsy and excited. She said to Ella, "See, that's the thing that will make the difference. Not that... not that I still don't get nervous around him, or anything, but..." she trailed off. The logic of the sentence was lacking a bit, but Ella recognized the feeling of anticipation and excitement. She smiled. Her mother would have quoted "Bambi" and called it "twitterpated". Actually, the thought of her parents calmed Ella down a little. She was close with them – it was hard to be on the east coast for so long, so far away from them. But Ella still called them frequently and they had recently discovered the magic of video-chatting. Thinking of them gave her a little much-needed courage and stability of thought.

Then the elevator arrived at the 92nd floor. The door opened, and the first thing Ella noticed was the classy but opulent decor of the hallway. But that was quickly replaced by the sight of Thor, standing there, not in his Asgardian armor (which she'd seen in the news coverage of New York and London), but a nice shirt and slacks, hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. "Jane," he said, smiling deeply, and it was hard to say whether he reached for her or she flung herself into his arms, but all Ella knew was they were standing in the hallway kissing passionately, and she was left in the elevator with Jane's luggage. 

Awkwardly, she waited a moment, and eventually they broke out of the kiss and just held each other close. Ella guessed that answered her unspoken questions of yesterday as to their relationship. As she stood there, she kept waiting for the elevator doors to close and for it to take her back downstairs. It would have been a mercy – after all, then maybe she didn't have to face whatever excitement and stress was down the other end of the hall. She really wasn't supposed to be here, anyway. And Jane was clearly going to be okay now, right? She had Thor with her. But the elevator didn't move. After a while Ella realized that JARVIS was probably controlling it, and waiting politely for someone to need something. She eventually felt the need to clear her throat.

"Oh!" Jane said, and turned back to Ella, blushing furiously. "I'm so sorry... I just, we haven't seen each other in weeks and..." she laughed awkwardly. She grudgingly let go of Thor and came back to drag her luggage out of the elevator. "Thor, this is my fellow panelist from yesterday. The one I told you about over the phone."

"Uh, hi," Ella said in a small voice. Thor smiled warmly, took her hand and bowed over it, kissing it quickly. Thrill didn't begin to describe it. A teeny corner of Ella’s brain objected to the vaguely chauvinist aspect of kissing someone's hand that you had just met, but that part was totally overruled by the experience. "It is good to meet you," he said. His voice was pleasant and deep, resonant and reassuring. "Thank you for rescuing Jane from the farce you were trapped in yesterday." Ella looked over at Jane, surprised. Sheepishly, she said, "I may have used some strong words for it when I finally got a chance to talk to him." Ella nodded, rubbing her hand absently where Thor had kissed it.

Thor said, "Jane, let me take your things to your room, it's just this way." Jane nodded. Thor hefted the bag like it was nothing (to him, it probably was nothing) and they started off down a side corridor. Ella stood awkwardly for a moment, and then started to follow. 

Jane saw, and said, "Oh, we'll only be a minute dropping these off – you should go on ahead to the party." Thor added, "It's straight down the hall, you cannot miss it." Ella nodded and said, "Of course!" trying to ignore the rising panic she felt. They left and she stood rooted to the spot. Ella wasn't usually this paralyzed by parties where she didn't know anyone; she was good at striking up conversations with strangers. This party, though, intimidated the hell out of her. After all, she had just met Thor!

After a few moments, JARVIS broke her anxious thought patterns by saying, "I have taken the liberty of scanning the guest list for you, in search of other participants with interests similar to your own. You may find Alejandra Cortez to be a compatible conversation partner – she is dressed in red and black with silver accents and is currently standing at the bar." How did he know? Ella thought to herself. She supposed he’d looked up her research online, but how did he know that was what she needed? Oh, well. Either way, Ella was somehow deeply grateful to the strange disembodied being. She wasn't sure what to say, so she settled on "Uh, thank you, Jarvis, that's really helpful." And it was – it gave Ella a target, a goal, something she could focus on as she walked tentatively down the hallway, trying to adjust her clothing and hair as she went. "You are most welcome," he responded.

Ella came to the end of the hall, where frosted glass doors slid aside silently, and revealed a tableau of 'cool' that was difficult to grasp at first. She thought to herself, not only was she not cool in high school, but she hadn't partied in college or grad school either. For starters, she didn't usually drink alcohol. It was very possible, Ella thought as she took in the snazzily-dressed party-goers, the DJ off in the corner of the room, the fancy food and wild-looking drinks, and the elegant and modernist architecture... it was very possible that she was about to make up for a lifetime of un-coolness just by being in this room for the next couple of hours. Making up for it all at once. She swallowed hard and stepped in.

Though it was somewhat dark inside (mood lighting, she thought), Ella could see that the room was actually several large rooms at different levels, and most everything was made of glass, including the entire outer wall, which sported a rather incredible multiple-story view of the city. She stood there for a few minutes and let it all sink in.

She had just started to try to look for this Alejandra person JARVIS had recommended, when someone came walking up from her left – as she glanced over, she saw he was coming from the direction of the bar with a couple of full drinks. Ella did a double take as she realized it was Tony Stark walking towards her. 

God, what did you say? “I love your whole Iron Man thing?" "Your recent work on clean energy is incredibly inspiring?" "This place is totally unbelievable?" "I think I might die of system shock from being this close to so many cool people?” Fortunately when Ella opened her mouth, none of those things came out.

Also probably fortunately, he jumped in before she could say anything. "You're Jane's new friend, right?" Ella nodded, speechless. "Well, welcome to the party." Ella nodded again stupidly. He sized her up a bit, looking her up and down. Ella couldn't tell if the scan was chauvinistic or humanitarian, but at any rate the next thing he said was, "I took a look at your research on using long-term legacy economic data to predict development outcomes." Now Ella’s mouth really dropped open. "You did?" she asked.

He nodded, adding, "I liked what you did with the missing data problem. I would have used more informative priors, though. And of course, the scope is small because the data are small. Still, nice work." Dumbfounded, Ella said, "Thanks! I mean, I don't do so much quantitative work anymore, but I... I miss it." What was she saying. Tony Stark didn't care what she did with her career. Ella mentally kicked herself.

He shrugged dismissively, half-smiled and said, "Enjoy the party." Then turned and walked away. Ella stood, completely off guard. Had Tony Stark just complimented her on her research? Maybe she did need a drink, after all.

Ella walked slowly over to the bar, and saw the person JARVIS had recommended she speak to – his description was just enough to identify her. Relieved, Ella tapped her on the shoulder and struck up a conversation. She proved to be friendly and JARVIS' recommendation was sound, as she worked with Indigenous people in South America on farming, ranching, and other livelihoods, under the umbrella of permaculture. She turned out to be pretty interested in what Ella was doing with USAID. They hit it off, and Ella got herself a drink, some kind of fruity sweet wine (reminiscent of sangria but without actual fruit floating in it), and proceeded to talk for what seemed like hours.

Eventually, Ella saw Thor and Jane emerge from the frosted-glass entry doors. She smirked to herself, because they looked slightly less well-groomed than they had. Well, she could understand the excitement of seeing your ... hm, calling Thor her boyfriend seemed a little ridiculous. Love interest, maybe. Seeing your love interest after a long time apart... yeah, that could maybe take precedence over joining the party. Ella was in the middle of listening to Alejandra describing the particulars of one farmer's strategy for sharing seeds and diversifying crops, though, so Ella didn't make a move to go greet them. Jane didn't look so nervous to her, in any case, so the nominal reason Ella had come didn't seem so urgent at this point.

And actually, Ella wasn't so nervous anymore, either. She was in her element, chatting with Alejandra informally about their research. Eventually, though, Alejandra excused herself, saying she had to be up early the next morning. They exchanged contact information, and she left the party. Normally at that point in a party Ella would start to wonder if she ought to head home, but she found herself striking up a conversation with one of the other people sitting at the bar – a young man with bleached-blond hair and a dark purple long-sleeved shirt open at the neck. It turned out he was a geneticist who worked with the government; they chatted for a while before someone stepped up between them. Her red hair was piled up on top of her head in a way that looked both elaborate and casual at the same time. She was wearing a long black dress which shimmered in the dim light and a slight smirk Ella couldn't interpret. Her manner was sly, seductive, and friendly.

"Sorry to interrupt – Dennis, Tony wanted to talk with you about something." He nodded, scanning the room, and asked, "Where is he?" She shook her head and said, "Downstairs somewhere, I think. He might actually be back in the lab off the lower level – Jarvis will let you in if you need." He nodded, turned back to Ella, shook her hand, and excused himself. The woman watched him go, apparently appreciating the view. Ella gave Dennis a second look as he left and then realized that he did actually have a pretty fantastic body... she hadn't noticed when she was talking to him (though she had definitely appreciated the purple shirt). Ella was always terrible at that sort of thing, and now she was kicking herself mentally. She wasn't necessarily looking for a hookup, but she could at least have got his contact info – she had enjoyed chatting with him. 

After a moment, the woman turned her attention to Ella. Emboldened a little by the ridiculous drink (though she'd only finished half of it), Ella held out her hand. "This is the first time I've been to one of these parties – I hear Tony has them all the time. Jane just invited me to this one." The woman narrowed her eyes a little, evaluating Ella (but smiling at the same time), and took her hand, shook it firmly, and said, "Natasha. Nice to meet you."

Suddenly Ella realized who she was talking to. Eyes widening, she said, "Romanov?" The woman nodded, leaning back against the bar and folding her arms, watching Ella. "I take it you've heard of me," she said with irony, half-smiling.

Ella nodded and gestured, almost spilling her drink all over herself. "Yes, um, yeah. You're... I mean, wow." Natasha arched an eyebrow, waiting. Ella shut up, downed the rest of the drink, turned and set the empty glass on the bar, and tried again. "Thank you for what you did in New York. I mean, here. I mean, in the battle." She nodded a little in satisfaction, and said, "Thanks. Just trying to help out where I can." She looked partway across the room, half smiling and pursing her lips, and Ella noticed Clint Barton leaning against a railing, talking with a man in a military uniform of some kind. Ella wasn’t sure how she recognized Clint from across the room when she hadn't recognized Natasha up close, but... she looked very different than she had in the media footage. Whereas he looked much the same, right down to the sleeveless shirt showing off his archery-sculpted arms. Ella had dated an archer once, so she had some idea about those. Barton saw Romanov's look, and inclined his head slightly, winking at her.

It had to be the wine, because Ella said, "Are you two...?" Natasha looked back sharply at her and she wilted. "Sorry... I'm sorry. Forget I said anything." Ella mumbled. She saw Natasha’s look shift, showing a trace of pity, then she lightened. "It's fine, everyone thinks that because we're close, we're involved." She did not, however, clarify whether they were involved or not. Though Ella’s curiosity was now piqued, she had a good enough sense of self-preservation not to ask.

Instead, Ella said, "I'm sorry, I don't usually come to parties like this... I don't usually drink, either." Now Natasha looked more overtly pitying. Ella felt even worse. Natasha must have read that, too, because she said, "Well, if you don't come to these kinds of things very often, let me show you around a little."

"O...Okay..." Ella said, and followed her off through the room. Natasha walked her around the top level, pointing out people and things (Ella tried not to get even *more* intimidated), and then took her down the frosted glass stairs. They were somehow both grand, elegant, and modern, and Ella felt very self-conscious walking down them next to Natasha. She did her best not to trip. The steps were, however, very well designed, and though they gave the impression of being ethereal and pristine, they were actually quite solid – they had some kind of texture on them that gave you good grip as you walked on them, and the risers were a height that was just right, not too tall and not too short. Ella started to feel sort of cool, herself, after a minute, descending the stairs. That could have been the rest of the drink kicking in, though.

Then they were on the lower level. There were fewer people down here (further from the bar and the DJ, maybe?), and Ella could see the doors into the lab that Natasha had mentioned earlier. Natasha looked around in irritation, and then said, "I'm sorry, I thought Bruce was still here. I thought you might appreciate meeting another wallflower – someone else who's not so comfortable at parties." Ella goggled. Surely she didn't mean Bruce Banner? But of course she must. Ella narrowly avoided making herself look even more foolish, this time keeping her mouth shut. Natasha looked back at Ella and she smiled brightly instead of saying anything. Natasha sighed. Ella couldn't tell if Natasha was more disappointed than would have been expected, like she'd been hoping to see him. "Well, I guess that's the problem with wallflowers. They only bloom for so long." Natasha smiled to herself as if she'd made some kind of private joke. Ella, at a loss, just said, "Yeah." Natasha nodded, and then suddenly looked sharply over Ella’s shoulder at the lab doors. "I'm... afraid I'll have to leave you here. Have a great evening!" she said, and then headed off in the direction of the lab. Ella called, "You too, thanks!" to her as she walked away; Natasha waved absentmindedly, and then she was on the other side of a very solid-looking set of doors.

Ella sighed and turned back to the rest of the lower level. Everyone down here seemed to be already in conversation with someone else. She spent some time trying to decide if she should join an existing conversation, or if maybe she should go home, or what. At length she settled on meandering over to the window and standing, just looking out at the city. The view really was incredible. The city sparkled and pulsed in subtle ways, seeming just as alive as if it were the middle of the day. "The city that never sleeps," she whispered softly.

Apparently not that softly; Ella heard a chuckle from nearby. "Quite a view, isn't it?" She looked to her right and saw, in profile, a tall man with his arms crossed, looking out over the city too. Had he been there when she’d walked up? Ella couldn't remember. She thought he looked pensive, in the dim light. Most of the light sources in the room were behind them, so Ella couldn't see his face very well. "Yes," she said. "I'm used to cities... sparkling... but this one... it's so much bigger and brighter and taller than I'm used to." He glanced over briefly. "Where are you from?" he asked.

"Near San Francisco," Ella answered. "And it's always going to be home, but... now that I'm here, I see why everyone loves New York City so much." He murmured assent. "Where are you from?" she asked him; the odd small talk you end up making at parties.

He looked over at her and stepped closer. "From around here," he answered vaguely, and put his hand out. "Steve Rogers." Ella’s heart sank. Naturally, she thought. She’d been making small talk with Captain America and didn't even know it. That's oh for two, after not recognizing Black Widow. Now that he was closer, even in the dimness Ella recognized him. She numbly took his hand. He had a predictably firm grip, but it was surprisingly gentle, and warm. "Ah... pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers." 

He smiled, which Ella could barely see in the dim light. "Steve is fine."

"Uh, sure. Steve." She let go of his hand. He was friendly enough, but this last revelation was one too many for her. She began to feel overwhelmed, and what was worse, the buzz from the alcohol was fading and she was starting to get a bad headache. Whatever was in that drink was definitely not her speed.

Ella wavered a little as she stood there and he asked, "Are you okay?" Embarrassed, she said, "I'm... just tired. I might... actually, I might head home now." He nodded. "Of course. Do you need a ride anywhere?" Ella’s embarrassment deepened. Did he think she was drunk? Wait – *was* she drunk? She didn't think so... Rather, it seemed like the hangover was already starting. She was such a lightweight.

Ella shook her head. "No, I took the subway here, I'm staying with a friend at 34th and 3rd. It's not far." He looked faintly alarmed. "It's a little late at night to be on the subway by yourself, isn't it?" he asked. Was he being chauvinistic? Ella was always so sensitive to being treated like a weakling, or delicate, or not capable, just because she was a woman, or because she was a woman of color. It was kind of hard to be mad, though, when he seemed so genuinely concerned. And as he'd said it, a flash of worry over safety on the subway did surface in her mind.

"I could probably walk it, actually," she amended quickly. "I was just in a hurry on my way here." He looked even more alarmed by this pronouncement. "It's definitely a little late to be walking by yourself," he said, concerned. Ella ignored the renewed defensive feeling she got, because she couldn't ignore the irritation that followed when she realized she didn't know what time it was; she pulled out her phone to check and saw it was much later than she’d expected. Maybe he was right about that, too – it wasn't such a good idea to walk back. Maybe she wasn't really thinking entirely straight?

He offered, "I could walk you down to the front, help you get a cab." Ella gave up trying to feel irritated. He really didn't seem condescending about it. And one cab ride, especially one that short, wouldn't break the bank. "Sure, that would be great," she said. What harm could it do. He walked with her back up the translucent stairs. Ella failed to notice Natasha, coming back out of the downstairs lab, nor did Ella see Natasha take note of the two of them as they walked up, out past the bar, and to the elevator. "Jarvis – ground floor, please," Steve said. 

"Of course," said the AI. A moment went by, with the two of them standing awkwardly waiting, and then the elevator arrived and the doors opened. He gestured for Ella to enter first, and she did. She wasn't sure what to expect from someone from the 1940s. He hadn't been awake for all that long since he was taken out of the ice, if she remembered correctly. No wonder he was being so chivalrous. Just the same, he didn't seem to know what to say as the elevator descended. He felt a little formal, a little stiff, though friendly, personable. Ella started to feel the weight of silence. She just didn't know what to say to him, though – he was after all a soldier, and Ella was a staunch pacifist. She strongly believed that while maybe the US had had the moral high ground in World War II against the Nazis, basically any time since then, U.S. foreign policy had been either violent and presumptive, avariciously capitalist, or condescendingly humanitarian. And here was a person who hadn't experienced any of that history. Ella couldn't imagine what they'd have in common. But then he asked, "So, what do you do?"

Ella stammered a bit. "Um, I'm a researcher. I work with local and Indigenous people to develop their own solutions to their own problems – tailoring them with the people, for the people." She had the stray thought that she was actually giving the elevator pitch of her work to Captain America – in an elevator.

He raised his eyebrows. "That sounds really interesting. Can you give me an example?" That was not the reaction she had expected. But this was easier to talk about for her, something she could hang on to in the face of the weirdness of meeting all these famous, powerful people all in one evening. So she started describing one of her projects, the one which had brought her to DC to work with USAID. As a consequence, Ella didn't even notice as the elevator stopped, they got out, and walked out to the street. There were already cabs waiting there near the door, and as she wound down her description, he said with feeling, "That is a *really* great project." Ella was surprised. Someone who was used to war, someone who was *made* for a war which was long over, who had volunteered to be made for that war, no less... *the* symbol of American patriotism and moral authority. She hadn’t been expecting him to be interested in her work. Huh.

"Um, thanks," she said, brushing her hair back from her face. "And... thanks for walking me down here." "Sure," he said, half-smiling. "Well, have a good night!" she said, stepping towards the cab. She almost expected him to get the door for her, but was grateful that he didn't. Everything was already weird enough, and that would have been even more awkward. 

"You too," he said as Ella opened the door and climbed in. She gave him a last wave as she shut the door, told the cab driver where to take her, and slumped back in the seat, overwhelmed by a very long and exciting but exhausting evening. Ella couldn't wait to tell Art about it. *If* she was even awake at this hour.

~*~

Natasha stood, arms crossed, looking up at the stairs thoughtfully. Tony walked out of the lab and saw her there. "What's up?" he asked.

"Who was the woman in the green and blue?" she returned. Tony scratched his chin. "Some researcher Jane met yesterday at a conference or something. Why?" He walked back over to the coffee table and sat.

Natasha was lost in thought for a moment, then: "I think you should invite her back. I've got a feeling."


	4. Chapter 4

### Part Two

__

_February 4th, 2014_

_Dear Ella,_

_I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. I had wanted to give you space. But it’s been more than a year, and I felt I had to reach out._

_I wanted you to know that I’ve been following your work in Borneo, and I think it’s such an excellent project. When you described it to me before we... well, a few years ago, I thought it had promise. But it’s so wonderful to see you realize that promise._

_The reason I’m reaching out now is that I’ve had early news of proposals to build new coal plants near your site. You may remember I’ve been evaluating renewable energy options for Indigenous groups, and when I was at a conference last week I heard about this issue._

_You may already know about it, but in case you don’t, this might be an excellent time for you to get your USAID colleagues involved. I believe the renewable energy potential available to your community collaborators is exceptional, and this might be an excellent use of your modeling skills to help them demonstrate it._

_I hope you don’t mind the written letter. I always admired that you still kept up the practice, and I thought I’d reach out in that vein._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Ethan_

__

~*~

When Artemis walked into her apartment at lunchtime, she disturbed Ella, who was sitting on the couch, head back, eyes closed. 

"Ella! What are you doing here at this time of day?" Art asked, surprised.

Ella opened her eyes and Art saw tears there. "What’s wrong?" she asked, concerned. She came and sat next to Ella on the couch, putting her hand on Ella’s leg.

Ella took a deep breath. Art seemed to know exactly what to do to be there for her. Just what you would hope for from a best friend. She picked up the piece of paper sitting next to her on the couch and handed it to Art.

Art took it, and as she read the first few lines, her eyes widened. "Have you heard from him at all since the break-up, except for this?" Ella shook her head.

"No. I’ve been sort of professionally stalking him. You know he started his nonprofit/startup hybrid in England early last year, right? I think I told you about that." Art nodded. "But, no, I didn’t actually contact him. Apparently he’s been professionally stalking me, too." Ella laughed a little weakly.

Art smiled at her sideways. "Only you could make that sound like a good thing." Ella laughed more genuinely and actually stuck her tongue out at Artemis. Then she sobered again.

"Anyway. The company is doing well, apparently. I know he went back to the UK because that’s where his family is. So I’m betting they’re helping out, too." Ella sighed, took the letter from Artemis, and folded it up.

Art asked, “They’re from Nigeria, right?”

Ella nodded. "Yeah. He was born in Scotland, but they emigrated from Nigeria not long before that. His father’s a doctor, so that’s why I figure they must be helping him with this development engineering start-up. Both because he cares about the cause, himself, and because they have a fair amount tucked away they can use to help."

Art whistled. "Sure wish my folks had those kinds of resources. Anyway... are you okay?”

Ella looked down at the letter in her hands. Eventually, she said, "Yes. I miss him. We dated for more than two years, all told. I feel like he understood the motivations behind my work... he grew up well-off, but trying to understand his heritage. I know he had a tough time as a black man in the tech industry back in Silicon Valley. You remember I met him at that workshop on the economics of solar power in Africa?"

Art laughed. "How could I forget? You were talking about it for months. I believe you tore him a new one in the Q&A section of his presentation."

Ella smiled. "Yeah. At the time, he was missing some of the key critical implications of what he was doing, or proposing to do, anyway. But... he took correction so readily. I’d never seen that kind of reaction in a techy sort of person before. He’s... he’s unusual." Her eyes glistened a little.

Art said softly, "Then remind me again why you aren’t together?"

Ella snorted. Easy for Art to say. "Not all of us can handle long distance like you and Andy. And... I know both of us well enough to see that we’d both be so consumed with our careers... we were both starting new projects that were really going to demand all of our attention. I just felt like... it just wasn’t going to work. Maybe... maybe someday. But I can’t see how that could happen."

Art patted her on the shoulder. "Well, is there anyone you’ve met in DC or here that interests you? Companionship is important." She said it simply, but somehow Ella knew Art meant the full spectrum of companionship.

Ella sighed. "Art, you know how I am. I certainly find people aesthetically pleasing. But to find them sexually or romantically attractive? I have to get to know them first. And anyone I’m getting to know that well right now... well, I’m working with them. It’s not a good idea to date people you’re working with, you know? You have to be careful not to mess up relationships you’re going to be depending on, for the foreseeable future."

Art looked at Ella wistfully. Ella wondered about that for a moment, but before she could think through it, Art said, "Yeah, I get it," and then Ella’s phone buzzed. 

She frowned and went across the room to get it. She unlocked the phone and read the text and her mouth literally dropped open.

Art asked, "What is it?"

Ella looked over at her, a shocked grin on her face. "They invited me back!"

Art looked confused. "Who? Masa’s lab?"

Ella shook her head, still grinning. "No, the Avengers!" Now Art’s mouth dropped open.

"When?" she asked. Ella looked back at her phone and poked at it a little. "Tomorrow night – another evening party," she said. "It’s only about a week after the last one. Wow. I had assumed it was a one-time thing, you know? A fluke."

Art said, "No offense, but me, too! Why do you think they invited you back?" 

"I don’t know! I totally made a fool of myself last time." Ella paused, trying to remember if there was some thing she’d done or said that would have caught someone’s eye. After a moment, she gave up. "Well, in any case, I definitely want to go. I really enjoyed talking with Alejandra, and I would like to see Jane again, too. We... didn’t really get to talk last time." 

They both laughed. Ella had described Thor, and Jane’s reaction to him, to Art. "And who knows who else will be there," she added, tapping a quick "yes" reply to the text, which she realized, after-the-fact, was from JARVIS. Made sense for Tony to make the guest list and have the AI handle the rest. 

Ella then did her best to put the whole thing from her mind until the following day. The evening of the party, she got herself geared up to go. Art was still pretty amused by the whole thing.

"Now, remember... don’t ask Romanov about her and Barton being an item. I hear she’s touchy about that." Ella gave her a sour look.

Art came over and straightened the sheer purple drape Ella was wearing over her dark blue Indian-style tunic. "But don’t worry," she said in Ella’s ear. "If you overdo it, Captain America can call you a cab." Ella stuck her tongue out and said, "Very funny. And I think Jarvis called me the cab, anyway." Then the reality of what she was saying hit her.

"My God, what am I doing?!” Ella exclaimed. Art laughed, stroking her arm reassuringly. "No teasing: you’re going to a party where you know you’re welcome, and likely to find interesting people to talk to. Sound like anything you typically enjoy?" Ella smiled and gave Art a hug. "Yes. Thanks, Art."

And so Ella made her way back to Avengers Tower. As she contemplated what to do when she got there, she realized she was interested in talking with the Avengers themselves again, too, only this time not when she was overwhelmed and stupid with awe and a bad drink. In fact, she vowed not to drink anything this time.

The second gathering was much smaller than the first. Alejandra was not there, but the blonde geneticist was, and Ella ended up chatting with him, as well as a few other people. The Avengers themselves, and their unique personalities, were more apparent in a smaller group. She found it was entertaining just to watch them all, to observe them, now that she was slightly less starstruck. Stark's personality dominated most conversations, with Thor not far behind. 

It got her thinking about what Art had said about companionship, and how she typically felt about attraction to people. Thor and Tony were probably Ella’s 'type'... Stark, brilliant, sarcastic, a little edgy; and Thor, with the long hair, height, and kingly manner. She could easily admit that they were both very attractive, and fun to watch. They both had great facial hair, too, which Ella usually liked. 

But of course it was silly speculation. Even as a guest at the party, she really was a nobody next to the Avengers. And... even if either of them had been available, or interested, she really wasn’t looking for a relationship at the time, and she’d never really been up for flings or one-night-stands. And, Art’s comment about companionship aside, Ella really was enjoying being on her own, and feeling pretty good about life. Excited about the work she was doing at USAID. Missing California and her family, but happy about what she was doing. She wasn’t sure that she really was missing companionship. Though it was hard to assess that when there wasn’t anyone she knew well enough to be attracted to in that way.

In any case, after a while, Ella started to get a better feel for the others. Natasha, quiet most of the time but dead-on whenever she did say something. Clearly always watching keenly whatever was going on. She was kind to Ella this time, and maybe thought better of her because she didn't drink and then say anything stupid. Ella finally met Bruce, and he was (unsurprisingly) very quiet and uncomfortable with the whole situation, even with fewer people; he kept to himself. Clint was also quiet, and seemed deeply satisfied about something, some private joke or private thought. 

But what surprised Ella the most was that, in a way, Steve was quieter than any of them – even though he certainly engaged in a fair number of bravado contests with Tony and Thor. There was just this feeling of... time, maybe?... to him that you didn't get from the others, not even Thor who was technically more than a thousand years older than any of them. Steve spent a lot of time being so serious. When he did make a joke, or smiled, it was like a fire flickering to life. Warm, and comforting – but it didn't happen very often. It took Ella a while to realize that it was always smoldering in the background, just not apparent most of the time.

She found herself staying much later at this gathering than the last one, and this time when she stood looking out at the city and he stepped up next to her, Ella was ready for him. "So... how has the city changed? Since you said you were from around here." He laughed. 

"It's hard to even start to answer that question." Steve sighed. Ella looked over at him and saw a wistful look.

"Okay," she said, "Then how has it stayed the same?" He turned to her, looking faintly surprised. Apparently that was not the question he was usually asked.

"Hmm." He mused a bit, crossing his arms. "Well, the Brooklyn Bridge is still pretty much the same." Ella laughed, and took a chance, teasing, "Surely you can do better than that. I'm sure there are other things that haven't changed."

He smiled at her. "Well..." he was silent for a moment. "I hate to say it, but... there are still the same bullies. They might look different now, but people still get hurt because they don't know how to stop them. Whether they're petty criminals, or people who are desperate, or..." he glanced back at the coffee table where the other Avengers were, just as Thor, standing, exclaimed loudly about something, pointing at Tony, seated across from him. "Or gods who want to enslave the whole human race. Though I'll admit, back when, the guy who wanted to destroy New York only thought he was a god. Thor's people are... well... they're pretty impressive," he finished grudgingly.

Ella wasn't quite sure what to say. She could certainly see his point about bullies. It made her sad, that he saw that the world was still the same in that way. But she thought he was probably right. After a while he continued. "Though it's also true that now, just like then, there are people who try to stop them."

They stood, silent, for a while. "What about technology?" Ella asked. "Do you think people count on it more now?"

He uncrossed his arms and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I don't know. People then and now think technology will save them. And don't get me wrong, technology can be really powerful..." he trailed off, looking down at his feet. "But," he finished, "It really matters who creates it, and why, and how they use it." 

He was silent for a while. Ella let that thought rattle around in her brain for a while. It certainly made sense, and jived with what she’d seen in her own work. Eventually, Steve added: "Actually, I really admire Tony for having stopped making weapons when he figured out what they did to people. That took guts. Well, and I suppose some shrapnel in his heart," he added, chuckling. Ella laughed, too, once she realized he'd meant that last bit as a joke. "Don't tell him I said any of that," he added conspiratorially. "I won't," Ella said, smiling. 

Not that there was much chance. She hadn't had the courage to say much to Tony since she’d arrived this time; she'd mostly been talking to the other guests who weren't Avengers. This conversation was the longest she'd had with one of them yet. Ella wondered about that. Steve was surprisingly easy to talk to. He might come across as serious, stiffly formal in some ways, but he was also good-natured and friendly in other ways.

He said, "And that's why I admire what you've been doing. You aren't counting on advanced technology to save people – you're counting on the people themselves. But you're helping them do it, not leaving them on their own, either. That's really something. We could use more of that in the world." Ella looked over at him in surprise. He was smiling. "Thanks," she said. He nodded.

Steve looked back out over the city. "Though those bullies are still there. It's why I work with SHIELD now. There are some things that local people just can't defend themselves against. There are still people using those weapons Tony made before he stopped. So... I still think I can do some good out there, defending people." Ella nodded slowly. She was coming to see that he was, as she had assumed, deeply a soldier... but deeply ethical and thoughtful about it, too.

Ella ventured, "You know, I've heard the phrase, 'never start a fight, but always finish it'... that strikes me a little bit like what you're talking about." "Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

Pensive, they continued to stand, looking out the window at the city. Suddenly Ella’s phone beeped, and she pulled it out. Art wanted to know when Ella was coming back, because she wanted to go to bed. Ella checked the time and started. It was quite late, even later than last time. She looked over at Steve. "I... I think I'd better head home for the night."

"Want me to walk you out?" he asked. Ella smiled at him. "No – I think I know my way this time, but thanks." She wished the other party-goers good evening – those who had drunk heavily drowsily waved in her direction, and Thor, alert as ever, wished her a heartfelt goodnight. The thought crossed Ella’s mind that Steve had been completely sober, despite the fact that she'd seen him match Thor and Tony drink for drink earlier in the evening. Pausing on the stairs, she looked back at him, still standing looking out at the city. What a puzzle he was, in some ways, she thought. But in other ways, pretty straightforward. 

Again, Ella failed to notice Tony notice her looking at Steve, as she turned and continued up the stairs and out of the tower. This time Ella thought beforehand to ask JARVIS to call her a cab, reasoning that there might not be one out there at this time of night. In the cab on the way back, Ella texted Art to tell her she was on her way. When Ella got back, Art had left a note with the security guard to let her in. He recognized her now, and let her in willingly. Ella got upstairs and crashed into the guest bed, hard. Even without having drunk any alcohol, she was beat.

~*~

Steve was still standing at the window when Tony strolled up. "Didn't walk her out this time?" he said, ever so slightly slurred. Steve glanced over at him. Here we go, he thought. "No, she said she knew the way." Tony nodded, "Uh-huh," he mumbled, oozing disbelief.

Steve sighed and uncrossed his arms, setting his hands on his hips. "What?" he said, slightly irritated. Tony raised his hands defensively, "Nothing! Nothing. Just... you know you're always welcome to have guests here, that's all." He smirked a little. "You know, if someone wanted to stay over."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Steve said, and turned back to face the window, crossing his arms again. Tony raised a finger, wincing slightly, and said, "That was, technically, a response." Steve sighed heavily. "Fine, fine, suit yourself!" Tony added, and ambled back to the coffee table.

Steve stood and tried to make sense of the thoughts that came up as Tony left. Of course Tony was legendary player. He might have settled down with Pepper, but that didn't mean he didn't still have the reputation. Steve was not a player. Tony was just messing with him. Sure, he'd enjoyed talking with her. But that didn't mean... he hadn't even been thinking that way. Though, as he thought about it now, she was pretty cute... 

He cut himself off. People from this time didn't really want to talk to him. Unless it was to tell him some thing he'd missed or ask if he knew some reference or other from the last seventy years. Like a parlor game – try to guess the thing the guy from the forties hadn't heard of. Be shocked and amazed when he hadn't. He maintained good humor with people when they did it, but it was wearing on him, over time.

Though, she did seem a bit different, on that count. She seemed to want to talk with him, and it didn't feel like it was for her entertainment. She genuinely seemed to care what he thought, and he thought her research was really interesting. Not over his head like the stuff Tony worked on – and more clearly about helping people, directly. He liked that about it.

Well. No harm could come from talking with her, after all. Steve found himself hoping she'd come again.


	5. Chapter 5

Ella was invited back a few more times, to her mounting surprise. She found herself spending more and more time talking to Steve. They continued to chat about the world and how it had changed since his time, and what the world needed to become a better place. Heavy topics, really, but somehow when they talked about these things it didn't feel that way. It was speculative, optimistic. Actually... it reminded her a little of how it had felt to talk to Ethan about these sorts of things.

The pattern developed that as the evening got later, they would still be talking, and the others who drank more heavily would go from loud, to amusing, to drowsy. It turned out that Steve wasn't capable of being affected by alcohol because his metabolism was so fast, and he usually steered clear of the stuff Thor brought back from Asgard. He told Ella he'd tried it once; he hadn't gotten a buzz but had gotten a splitting headache. And Ella continued to steer clear of drinking after that first time. She enjoyed herself better, and she felt like it gave her a small chance of holding her own amongst the present company. Bruce wouldn't drink, either, of course, but typically he'd be scarce by that point in the evening. So it would turn out to be Steve and Ella, sitting at the coffee table or standing looking out over the city, musing about things.

The last night she went to one of those parties, only days before she was to head back to DC, Steve and Ella were sitting on the couch chatting. The topic happened to be economic systems, something Ella knew a lot about. Steve had recently been reading about the history of the Cold War.

"Still, the free market has all these externalities... I mean, unless you bake the cost of environmental harm, or public health impacts, into the cost of something, the market won’t automatically value those things. And you get companies developing harmful products because they’re driven by the system to maximize profit. It pushes for very short-term thinking, by default." Ella wound down her argument and paused, curious what Steve thought.

He shook his head. "I see what you mean, but it sounds like the amount of government regulation in the USSR was so extreme..."

Ella nodded. "Sure, absolutely. Attempts at 'pure' capitalism and communism are both really problematic. And the USSR did a lot to destroy Indigenous peoples' livelihoods, too, just like capitalist systems have."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get as far as actually saying anything, because the others got a little exuberant and Tony dumped some kind of beverage all over both of them. 

"Tony, what the-?" Steve exclaimed. Ella didn’t manage anything coherent, just a yelp of surprise as she and Steve jumped up from the couch.

Tony looked appropriately apologetic, for Tony, anyway. He said, “Sorry, you know, reflexes decline with increasing... impairment." Ella didn’t think he’d been drinking that much, but whatever. She was distracted by the discomfort of the unidentified sticky substance drying on her skin and clothes. Something with a lot of sugar in it, at any rate.

Wincing, Tony said, "That’ll... that’ll probably stain. You ought to do something quickly... My bad, so maybe..." He stepped away and spoke something in a low voice to JARVIS. A moment later, a staff member appeared from somewhere holding a bathrobe.

"Here," he said, handing the bathrobe to Ella, who had the stuff all down her front. "Maybe someone can lend you a shower, and we’ll wash your clothes for you. He winced again, looking at her, and said, "*Definitely* do it soon, though. Sorry again."

Ella didn’t really know what to say, but fortunately Steve came to her rescue. "Well, clearly I need to change too. You can use my shower." Ella nodded, still annoyed with Tony as her clothes became stiffer and stickier by the minute.

Coming from Steve, the offer of a shower was meant totally at face value, of course, though Ella still noted some speculative looks pass between the others as she and Steve moved away towards the stairs. She threw an irritated glance back at Tony as they left the room, and she wasn’t sure if she was imagining a particularly smug look on his face, or if that was his usual level of smug.

Steve chuckled as they walked down the hallway towards the guest rooms. "What's so funny?" Ella asked him, her irritation at Tony already fading a bit in the face of Steve's warm humor.

He looked over at her. "Tony thinks he's being subtle, but I see what he's doing." Ella looked back up at him. "What?" she said, meeting his eyes. There was merriment in them, and he was smiling. Ella had been coming to appreciate that he had a particularly nice smile. Then his expression shifted a bit, looking down at her, clearly evaluating something, and there was a hint of some feeling that was hard to identify, something that she could have believed was a hint of appreciation or attraction, something more urgent than humor. Suddenly he looked away, seeming a bit uncomfortable. Ella was never very good at understanding these kinds of situations. He said, offhandedly, "Nothing, nothing. He just always thinks he's so clever."

"Well, that's certainly true. I just hope this shirt isn't ruined..." Ella said, brushing at it a bit.

JARVIS spoke into the silence as they walked down the hall, "If you will place the soiled clothing in the laundry receptacle, we will launder it for you and return it within an hour and a half." Ella groaned. "Thank you, Jarvis. But an hour and a half? It’s already so late..." She looked back over at Steve. "I'm going to rinse off, but do you have some cards or something? I'm not going back up there in this bathrobe."

Steve chuckled again. "I'm sure Jarvis will have some kind of electronic game we can play. Or... we could just *talk*." He was smiling again, though a tone of exasperation came through. Ella thought that was something about modern culture that was hard for him to get used to. So many distractions. Less time to just spend being with each other, talking about important things. She knew what he meant. She always felt like there was something she should be doing at any given moment of the day. Except when she was with him, she thought.

She laughed, though, thinking about the fact that she usually had no trouble coming up with things to talk about. "Right. That's a good point. I mean, that's the only way I know how to save the world – talking. Writing. I'm not capable of what you all are capable of in terms of, you know, actual *action*."

This was already a well-established back-and-forth between the two of them. So Steve responded almost immediately, "No, no... what you do is just as important. You're helping people whose biggest threat isn't an attacker, it's not enough food, or it's destruction of their forests, or too little water. You help them feel powerful. You help them find their own solutions. You help them defend themselves from governments, using information they get for themselves." They must have reached his room because he stopped in front of a door and dug around in his pocket. He smiled at Ella. "I think in a way that's even better than defending people with fists or guns." He pulled out an RFID proximity card.

"Thanks," she said, looking up at him. She suddenly felt pretty good about herself – after all, there's nothing quite like a personalized pep talk from Captain America. They stood there for a moment, and then a little too long, looking at each other. Ella felt her face flush a bit as she was reminded just how attractive he was... the damp shirt clinging to his chest and arms, the endearing one-sided smile he was aiming down at her. He exuded strength and confidence. "Ah, I'm in here," he said awkwardly, and opened the door.

Tony's guest rooms were opulent, of course. Though Ella had visited a number of times already, she hadn't seen the inside of one. And even if she had gotten to stay over, it wouldn't have been one of the suites that the other Avengers got to stay in. There was an entire sitting area with a small couch and armchair and coffee table and opposite that, a small kitchenette. Through a door, she could see a master suite with a king size bed and a very large bathroom. There were many small touches that bespoke the expensiveness of the decor and design. Tasteful, though.

It didn't look like Steve had stayed there long – there was almost nothing in the room. A few books and file folders on the coffee table, some marked with SHIELD's logo, and some clothes in the large closet that connected the bedroom and bathroom. He'd told Ella that he lived in DC most of the time, working with SHIELD. Ella didn't know if he had been here in New York the whole time since the first party she'd come to, or if he commuted up here from DC for these gatherings. Not that it mattered that much. She glanced around some more, and noticed that strangely, all the covers were off the bed and piled on the floor at the foot of it. She turned back to him and asked, "Troubled sleeper? Kick the covers off a lot?"

Steve looked sheepish. "Well, I, uh... sometimes the beds are too soft and I can't sleep... so sometimes I just sleep on the floor." 

"Too soft?" Ella asked. He nodded, a little uncomfortable. "I was so used to sleeping on hard surfaces, back in the war... sometimes that comes home to roost." 

Feeling a surge of compassion, and without thinking, Ella put her hand on Steve’s arm. It was hard to remember that for him, the war had not been that long ago... and also hard to remember how much combat he'd seen, then and now. He was always so good-natured, that you didn't think much of it. He wasn't making a big deal out of it now, either, and seemed a bit unhappy about having said anything. Just the same, she said, "You know, I've had a number of friends and relatives who were or are in the service... I obviously don't have direct experience... but, you know... thank you. For what you did, and for what you do."

"You're welcome," Steve said, with some gravity. This felt a little more personal than the abstract conversations they'd been having until now, but Ella forged ahead, adding, "Not to make you feel *too* old, but my grandfathers were both in the war. One was in the Navy; the other was in the Air Force. So... you're in good company."

Steve seemed both pleased and embarrassed at once. "Uh, thanks. I guess that makes me old enough to be your grandfather, by definition." Ella laughed. "I think you don't count that way due to your circumstances," she said. "You count as a contemporary with a... unique historical perspective. I think having a sense of history is very sexy, actually." Then she thought about what she'd said and laughed awkwardly as he raised his eyebrows at her. Why had she said that, of all things? Though she realized upon reflection that it was true – he wore his history well. And she *had* just been noticing how good he looked... usually she didn’t start noticing someone’s looks until she’d gotten to know them well enough to like their personality and relational style. Ella realized suddenly that she *did* know him reasonably well now. Well enough to be attracted to him, she wondered? Was that what was going on behind her comment?

Steve laughed too, possibly a little awkwardly, but Ella was distracted because she became suddenly focused on the fact that she had her hand on his arm and became hyper-aware of the way the muscles moved as he laughed and flexed his arm a little. In fact, she realized, it was probably the first time she had touched him in such a familiar way. She gave him a squeeze and then let go, not sure what to do with the rush of adrenaline that was making her feel a little queasy.

"Ah, I'm still all sticky. I'm going to go rinse off in the shower... I'll be right back. Look for some cards, or something?" He nodded, and Ella trotted off to the bathroom, shutting the door between the bedroom and the bathroom/closet/hallway combination.


	6. Chapter 6

Safely in the bathroom, Ella shed her clothes in a pile, located the laundry chute and dumped them down it, adding, "Thanks, Jarvis," and stepped into the bathroom. JARVIS answered, "You are most welcome," as she confronted a rather elaborate showering apparatus. "Um, Jarvis, can you give me a tip here?"

"Certainly. Do you prefer a warm shower, cold shower, or hot shower? Alternatively, you can specify the temperature." Ella smirked. Of course Tony would have designed it so that JARVIS could control the system. She thought about Steve in the other room with the damp shirt, beautiful body, and sweet and slightly awkward manners, and said, "Uh – how about cool? Like, just under body temperature?" Maybe that would calm down the butterflies in her stomach.

JARVIS turned the water on in the shower, and she jumped slightly. Maybe cold wasn't the right idea. "Okay, just kidding, how about warmer." JARVIS said, "Certainly. I will increase the temperature to 99 degrees Fahrenheit." And he did. "Thanks, that's great," she said. She found the soap and started to lather her body up a bit, and found herself thinking about the fact that Steve must shower here, and that this soap had last been traveling all over his body... and found herself thinking about his body, and finding the warm relaxing feelings of arousal kicking in.

Ella caught her mind wandering and tried to shut it down. Okay, so she had definitely come to be interested in him, she had to admit that to herself at this point. But, really, how likely was it that he would actually be interested in her? He probably has the pick of anyone he wants, she thought. Though, even as she had that thought, Ella wasn't so sure. He's so quiet and serious, and he's always running around saving everyone – when would he have time to date anyone? He hadn't mentioned anyone when they'd talked before. Of course, why would it come up? And how would she know if he were interested? Anyway, it was still a bit of a ridiculous thought. 

Ella rinsed off the soap, found a spare towel, and dried off. She looked at herself in the mirror. A little heavy, well, at least compared to the other women here. A few more folds than maybe she'd like, but she had a nice shape. A lot of curves, and some people prefer more curves anyway. Would Steve be that sort of person? After all, he'd grown up in an era before all the ridiculously anorexic beauty ideals had really taken hold. Ella scolded herself again, and grabbed the bathrobe. It was warm, had a chenille lining (very soft), and was actually large enough to cover her up pretty well. She really hadn't known what to expect from Tony Stark handing a bathrobe to a woman who was about to need to strip off all her clothes. Let's just say his reputation really preceded him. But this was a legitimately comfy bathrobe. Ella found herself wondering if it was really Pepper's doing, somehow.

She walked out of the bathroom and opened the door, to find Steve standing in the closet/hallway with a clean shirt on but not buttoned and the sticky shirt balled up in one hand. She involuntarily drew in her breath at the sight of him – she’d always been a sucker for an open shirt and long pants, and it looked particularly good on him (though it was hard to imagine anything that *wouldn't* look good on him). It didn't hurt that the pants were a dark charcoal grey and the shirt was a deep cobalt blue, which was a color she was partial to. She tried to hide her reaction, but she saw that he had noticed it, and looked sort of awkward. Ella laughed in a strained way and said, "Oh, do you want me to throw your shirt down the laundry chute too?"

"Sure," he said eagerly, seizing on something innocent to do, and handed her the shirt. She turned around and shut the bathroom door, breathing a little fast, and fumbled at the laundry chute to send the shirt down. In doing so, she dropped the shirt and as she picked it up, got a strong whiff of his smell. Some kind of cologne, but very little (maybe he has a super sensitive sense of smell, like all the other enhancements, she thought, and then tried not to think about the enhancements too much), and a very nice earthy smell. One thing she had enjoyed about where she’d worked in Southeast Asia was that people didn't often wear deodorant. It felt more honest somehow, like this is what humans should smell like. Ella liked being able to smell peoples' real smells – for the most part, anyway. His she particularly liked.

Catching her mind wandering again, Ella pushed the chute open and stuffed the shirt down it, and then went back to the bathroom door and opened it to find him waiting there, looking mildly confused. "Can I come in? I'm just going to wipe off where the drink was..." He trailed off, eyes traveling along Ella from head to toe. She looked down and realized that the bathrobe wasn't entirely closed anymore after her antics with the laundry chute, and quickly wrapped it tighter, smiling sheepishly. "Uh, sure." And she stepped outside the bathroom.

To her surprise, he didn't shut the door, but went into the shower room and got a hand towel, took it to the sink, wet it, and stood there in front of the mirror, wiping his chest down carefully. Unsure of what to do, but physically incapable of tearing her eyes off the mirror, Ella stood there and said, "So, um... did you find any cards?"

Watching as the towel trailed down over smooth and well defined muscle after muscle, Ella tried to listen to his answer. While she didn't usually prefer really muscular physiques, Ella was finding it hard to focus, watching him. That was the power of being attracted to someone’s personality... then their physical form typically also attracted her to them, even if it wasn’t usually her cup of tea.

Steve laughed and said, "No, I think the only deck of cards I have are a pack of, ah, inappropriate ones that Tony gave me as a gag. I think he thought it was, I don't know, period or something. Like the kind of thing soldiers from my day handed around." 

He finished wiping off and started to button the shirt, to her disappointment. "And... I guess he's sort of right, there were guys who had those kinds of things. I always found it a little... disrespectful." As he buttoned the shirt Ella found herself a little less distracted and said, "Well, if you mean they're pictures of naked ladies, it's true that there has been and still is a lot of objectification of women in the media and in things like that. I'm sure you can still get those kinds of things, like those cards. And I'm not surprised Tony gave them to you." Steve snorted. 

She added, teasing, "Though I note that you kept them..." He looked alarmed and opened his mouth to explain. Ella raised a hand and shook her head, laughing. "No big deal. We're both adults, here. But at any rate, there's also a lot of people and culture nowadays who are focused on what you could call 'sex positive' ideas and imagery." 

Steve looked over at her as he tossed the towel from across the room into the laundry chute. Good aim, Ella noted. Of course. He said, "Sex positive?" Ella shrugged as he walked over and gestured back at the sitting room area. She tried not to think about the conversation she was getting into with this highly attractive man from the 1940s and just went for it. One of her weaknesses was being presented with the opportunity to give someone information they might find useful and demonstrate her knowledge about something she found interesting. It made her a good academic, and a good teacher, but sometimes she didn’t notice if people were getting bored. In this situation, the tendency to just plunge ahead was useful in avoiding the jittery feelings hovering around the edge of her mind. As she spoke, she was able to regain a little control over her libido, and that was really helpful, especially considering the topic.

"Um, yeah," she said as they sat down on the couch together. "Sometimes you hear, 'body positive,' too." He looked quizzically at her. "Well, you know, there's a lot of imagery out there about really skinny women, so people like me sometimes feel a little insecure about having a bit more, um, padding." She saw that sink in. Steve broke in, "You shouldn't think all those pictures are what women should look like – you're very attractive." Then he flushed slightly, and cleared his throat. "Anyway, go on."

Ella shoved away the nervous feelings and tried to dive in to her usual enthusiasm for explanation – which worked. "Well, it's the idea that sex isn't bad, or dirty, and it's not a sin, at least to a lot of us – not that I'm saying other people can't believe what they want to believe, but *I* don't believe it's a sin. And people are interested in all sorts of odd things, find different things to be a turn-on... and that's okay, as long as people are communicating with each other about what's okay." He nodded gamely but a bit uncertainly.

She plunged on. "And the idea is that pleasure is okay, and it's good for both people to enjoy their own bodies and each others' bodies and to ask for what they want and definitely to say what they don't want – a strong part of this culture is consent – sometimes people talk about 'enthusiastic consent,' even." Ella didn't notice, but as she was talking, in her excitement she was leaning forward on the couch, towards him, and had gotten rather close by the time she reached the end of the sentence. Her arm was millimeters from his, and she realized she could feel his body heat across the tiny gap. 

Steve looked like he was struggling with something. Ella realized that she was doing that thing she did when she got too enthusiastic – talking really quickly, with great energy, and not stopping to check in with her audience. She almost leaned back, but as she was about to, Steve shifted his arm and their skin touched and she felt a shiver run all over her body. Ella kept a careful mental grip on her libido, but she saw him react, too, and couldn't read it. He still looked troubled.

"Steve, are you okay? I didn't mean to say anything..." He interrupted her. "No, no, it's okay – it's just, sometimes it's a lot to get used to. I mean, I know things are really different these days, and I get an earful from Natasha all the time about loosening up, but let's just say I've never had a woman give me a lecture on sex" and he said the word slightly delicately, "while she was sitting on the couch with me in a bathrobe." Ella laughed and said, "Well, the bathrobe part is Tony's fault." He laughed too, and a little of the awkwardness passed.

Steve continued, "It's just an unfamiliar idea, you know? Back when I was growing up, you didn't besmirch a lady's honor... you courted her, and you were patient and waited until you were married to do these things. At least," he paused, "at least, if you were a gentleman, that's what you did."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I actually never had to worry about it much, because before my... before I had the serum, no girl would look twice at me. And believe me, Bucky tried to set me up, so many times..." he started to chuckle but then stopped and looked away, pain evident on his face. After having met Steve in person the first time, Ella had read up on him and the story of the serum, the publicity stunts, and his missions with the Howling Commandos. It sounded like an old loss, to think of his childhood friend, but Ella still had the instinct to want to comfort him. She didn't know what he would want, though. She settled for tentatively putting her hand on his arm. She was actually really physically close to him now, but she was most focused on what she read as emotional pain and not paying attention to his nearness. She didn't say anything, but waited for his emotion to pass in its own time.

Steve recovered a bit, and put his other hand on Ella’s and patted it lightly. He collected himself further, sighing, and added, "Sorry. I haven't thought about that in a really long time. Anyway, it wasn't just my looks, I was totally obsessed with finding a way to go to war and defend freedom, for the good of my country and, well, for the whole world." 

He said it plainly and with pride, and Ella could see that it was still true, though time and a little experience of the modern world had tempered it a bit. It was still a moving thing to see – Ella felt a sort of intense appreciation for him as he continued. "Anyway, so, even after I changed, I wasn't that close to anyone... and none of the girls I performed with thought much of me," his voice took on a sardonic edge, presumably remembering his publicity stunts from before his missions with the Howling Commandos, "because I was such a stick in the mud – too patriotic, I guess... I also think they thought I wasn't much of a man, running around in tights instead of being a real soldier. I didn't think much of myself then either." 

He sighed, clearly remembering the frustration from that time. "And that whole, you know, be a gentleman thing..." Ella laughed and said, "I know." She hadn't been much of a player in her teens and twenties – having demisexual tendencies meant she wasn’t really attracted to people without knowing them pretty well first. And though nowadays she knew what she wanted from intimate relationships, Ella still didn't go out of her way to look for them all the time. She tended to let them evolve from other relationships instead of actively dating. And she was still recovering from breaking up with Ethan, anyway.

Except... it dawned on Ella that it had actually been quite a while since that breakup, at this point. She’d been telling herself she was still recovering for a long time now, and maybe it wasn’t true anymore. And as she looked at Steve, sitting there, she thought uncharacteristically that maybe Art was right, and she should be looking for some intimacy. Ella’d clearly come to be quite attracted to him, and though she usually didn’t go for a fling or one-night-stand, here was a person she was unlikely to have a long-term relationship with anyway, and someone who was about as ethical as it was possible to be. If there were ever someone to try that out with, why not him?

And as Ella had the thought, the equally surprising thought followed that he might actually be interested. Was that what all the reactions had meant? How could she know... she was so terrible at this. Ella decided she could put it out there and see what he did.

So she said, "But what about now? Now you're in the 21st century. You don't have to always be a perfect gentleman... well, at least, you don't have to keep your hands off."

He looked at her inscrutably and said, "Don't I?" His voice was low and a bit rough. Was it because he was interested? Ella still wasn't sure. A little uncertain, she leaned forward a bit, bringing her face closer to his. "You don't," she said softly, taking the risk that he was interested. She saw him thinking intensely about it, and then he leaned forward too, and their lips met.


	7. Chapter 7

Whatever question Ella might have had about his interest vanished in the overwhelming rush of sensations. He was strong, that was evident. But timid, too. Maybe unsure if she really wanted it? Or unsure of where to go with it? But very definitely interested. 

Ella decided she'd better show him that she did want him. After all, she was a free agent, and he was about the most trustworthy person you could imagine, by definition. She wasn't sure where this was going to go, but she could at least show her appreciation for him in a visceral, tangible way. As was typical for her, once she found herself attracted to someone, she found herself extremely attracted to them. So she decided right then, before she got too carried away, that she'd be happy to do as much as he wanted to, up to and including intercourse.

So she slid herself into his lap. Steve breathed in sharply as she did so, and Ella pulled back slightly, breaking out of the kiss. "Is it all right?" she asked, now looking down at him for a change. He looked up at her a bit hungrily and nodded. "Just caught me by surprise," he said. Ella smiled and put her arms around his neck and kissed him again, trying to encourage a little give with each contact, and found that he was very responsive. He slid his hands up her back, and she shivered at his touch, even over the bathrobe. She opened her mouth a little bit the next time, and Steve responded in kind. She touched his lips with her tongue a little, tentatively, and heard him make a small sound that she interpreted as pleasure. Encouraged, Ella did it a little more, and her tongue met his, and he responded by exploring her mouth a little bit, tentatively, then more urgently. They did that a bit more, and then Ella heard him laugh, and she pulled out of the kiss.

"What's funny?" she asked.

Steve chuckled. "I've just never known why they call it a French kiss, that's all." Ella laughed too. "Me neither. That's a mystery through all the ages." Then she bent back down to kiss him again, this time sucking lightly on his lower lip. He seemed to enjoy it, so she pulled away and kissed his cheek, then the edge of his jaw, and sucked lightly there, and then down his neck, finding the hollow between clavicle and neck and trapezius. Ella nibbled there a little, alternately sucking and experimenting with using her teeth lightly. He moaned a little. 

She leaned back again, taking a look at his facial expression, checking in to see if this was all right, and saw that his eyes were closed and he looked deeply relaxed. Steve opened his eyes and saw Ella looking at him. He smiled at her, and said, "It's nice. I like it." She smiled back, and then put her hands on his chest. (Wow. Well-muscled didn't even begin to describe it. Ella was again surprised at her own reaction to his physique, but didn't waste time thinking about it at that particular moment.) She took hold of the buttons of his shirt (so recently fastened) and asked, "May I?" He nodded. 

So one at a time Ella unbuttoned the buttons, trying to take her time and curb her eagerness to slide her hands up his chest and around his sides. She managed it, but only barely. The second the buttons were undone, she pulled the shirt out of the way and did exactly that, and the feeling was electric. As Ella bent down to suck on his neck again and more of her skin came in contact with his, she felt a surge of lust and a corresponding tingling in delightful places. He responded similarly, if the increasingly restrictive motion against her leg was any indication. Those pants needed to come off soon, she thought. It's only humane. She shifted against him sensuously. He suddenly tensed up.

Ella pulled away and sat back against the side of the couch, putting her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her too and looked at her, seeming conflicted. "What's wrong?" she asked him. He sighed and looked away, and then at length looked back and said, "I don't know. I'm just... not completely sure about this."

Ella’s heart sank, but she said, "If you're not, then we can stop right here. It's really okay." She was disappointed, but far be it from her to push it. "You should only go as far as you're interested in going."

Steve looked at her seriously. "I'm interested, though." She nodded at him, a little confused as elation mixed in with the disappointment. But she said, "Well... sometimes it's hard to know what your boundaries are with someone without pushing them a little. But the trick is to to keep talking about it, if you’re not sure. And to stop if you don't like how it's going, or how you feel."

He sighed and looked down. Ella waited, just sitting there in the glow of extreme arousal, enjoying the warmth of his body and the traces of cologne and his underlying smell and the sound of his breathing and the feel of his skin under the cobalt blue shirt. A really remarkable person, truly. Someone she hadn't thought much of, initially – had him marked down as a soldier, as a black-and-white sort of person. Of course he was a good guy -- an Avenger, someone who defended their country, their planet. Very admirable. But if someone had told her she would be sitting in his lap in a bathrobe, waiting for him to decide if he wanted to be physically intimate with her, she would have laughed in their face. Well, she supposed she would have been shocked that she had even met him. But she never would have thought of him as someone she'd want to be intimate with. It was just... talking with him these last few times... he'd revealed a lot of his own depth and nuance in the way he talked about the world and how it had changed, the ways it was better and worse, and how it could be better still... he'd really revealed more of himself and shown that he was a lot more than a pretty face and a strong body and a patriotic symbol.

At length he looked up at her, and she could see he was struggling with deciding to say something. Finally he said, "So, the thing is... I actually haven't really done this before." He coughed a little. "You know, ah, had... sex." Ella was a bit surprised but tried not to let it show, and nodded. "I've definitely kissed girls, and I have since I came out of the ice, and I have done little bit of... exploring, but... not very much. It's been hard to shake the 'wait until you're married' thing – I never wanted to give them the wrong idea and... well, to be honest, I've never known if I would..." he paused for a long time, "well, if I'd hurt them." Ella’s confusion deepened, but he looked expectant.

So she said, "Well, you don't have to worry about giving me the wrong idea. I'm not expecting you to marry me or even necessarily for us to date. I just like you a lot and am enjoying your company and *very* much enjoying being physically intimate with you, and I at least would like to go further... I would like to make you feel good, too." He nodded hesitantly. "Um, but only if you want that..." she added.

"Yes! Yes, I do," he said quickly, maybe a little too quickly, because he took a hand away from Ella’s back and rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Uh, yes, I do," he said a little more calmly, putting his hand back where it was. Which was nice, because it was cold where he wasn't holding her.

Ella continued, "So it's okay for us to make each other feel good, and as long as we keep talking with each other, saying what is okay and what isn't, what we like and want and what we don't like and don't want, and we keep an eye on how we feel afterward, it's fine. It doesn't have to be a big deal. Just to be clear, this is me, saying that I want this. You know, consenting. Enthusiastically." He nodded, smiling a little, but then said, "But I'm still worried I might hurt you."

Ella suddenly saw what he meant. He was super strong, after all. He could probably apply a lot of pressure in a hurry and if he were distracted he might not have the attention to his partner at the moment of climax. That was a reasonable fear, she thought, remembering how she’d bruised herself inside even with a less unusual partner, when they'd gotten too carried away and hadn't spent adequate time on foreplay.

Ella nodded slowly. "I see what you mean. So... I can think of a couple of ideas. First of all, if you can tell me if you are getting close, we can disengage and I can finish with my hands, if that's okay with you." He looked a little uncertain at that description (she wasn't sure what part), but nodded. She continued, "And also we can try a position where I have more control over... um, the depth of penetration," she finished awkwardly. It was the right phrase, but Ella could see him swallow hard as she said it. Of course, he was a soldier – he'd probably heard more graphic descriptions in all sorts of contexts. But apparently not in the context of potentially being about to do it.

"Ah, position?" he repeated. Ella nodded. "Well," she began, "If I'm on top," and his eyes widened, "I can control how deep you go, so if it's uncomfortable I can adjust. Actually, I can do that with you on top, too, but it's easier with me on top." She thought to herself that missionary position was probably the norm when he had sex ed, back in the day, she thought... if there *was* sex ed back then? Probably not. But as those thoughts passed through her mind, his look of caution resolved itself into a sort of determination and he nodded gamely. She had to admire how quickly he was adjusting to the discussion.

"Okay. I think..." he paused, absently stroking her arm with his thumb. "I think I'd like to try it." Then he leaned in and kissed her again, and she let herself become completely lost in it.


	8. Chapter 8

Eventually he broke out of the kiss, and they both breathed heavily for a minute. Ella looked him in the eye and said, "Would you be willing to do something I like?" Steve nodded, questioning. She flushed red, a little embarrassed even in the midst of trying to model how to communicate about what one wanted, and leaned forward and murmured in his ear. 

Steve nodded again, flushing slightly and half-smiling at her. It was extremely endearing. Ella shrugged out of the upper half of the bathrobe, exposing her breasts. He cupped one in his hand, and she could feel his cock move against her leg, hard, as he bent to kiss her breast. Ella shivered with pleasure at the touch of his lips. His chin brushed her skin, too, and though he was clean-shaven she could feel the barest hint of stubble. He slowly kissed his way towards the nipple, and Ella felt an overwhelming mix of anticipation and frustration and excitement at his measured pace. Tentative? Or just enjoying himself? She barely had time to have the thought, though, before he reached his destination and tried out her request, sucking and teasing the nipple with his tongue, and she almost lost it then and there.

After a moment, though, Ella remembered another key thing they hadn't talked about yet. She put her hand on his shoulder, pushing him a little away, and said, "Um, one other thing that is really important... We, mmm…" Ella lost her train of thought as he ran a thumb over her still-hard nipple. She dragged her attention back. “We need to discuss protection." Steve reluctantly pulled away from her breast and looked up at her. 

Ella elaborated, "I've been tested for STIs since my last partner, and I know I'm clean, and you're about as clean as they come." She paused, smirking a bit at the turn of phrase, then cleared her throat and went on. "Now, I *am* on hormonal contraception. But it’s up to you, if you’d like added protection, just the same." 

Steve considered this for a moment. Eventually, he said, "I think I’d like the extra protection, yes."

Ella nodded, and then looked a little dismayed. "Only one problem, there, then." She paused. "I didn't bring a condom with me. I kinda wasn't planning on this," she finished, smiling ruefully. 

Steve looked sheepish and said, "That's okay, there are..." he coughed. "There are some in the bathroom drawer. There's an entire first aid kit in there... I think Tony thinks guests should always be prepared. Or something." 

Ella laughed. She climbed off of his lap and beckoned him to the bedroom/bathroom area. She let the front of the bathrobe hang open, and caught his reaction (gratifyingly favorable) out of the corner of her eye. She went to the bathroom and rifled through drawers until she found the items in question. Tony had thoughtfully provided a variety of flavors and textures. She’d never been a fan of anything fancy when it came to condoms, so she picked the plain one. Besides, if this was the first time Steve had used one, might as well not complicate things.

Walking back to the bedroom, Ella saw that he had picked up some of the sheets and pillows from the floor and put them on the bed. She held up the little square plastic packet and said, "We’re in business."

Steve laughed, and then came to her and slid his hands under the bathrobe, and bent down to kiss her. He was... less tentative than before. She slid her hands under his shirt, feeling his back muscles move and shift as he reached down and cupped her buttocks, pulling her close and pressing their bodies together. Then they broke off from the kiss for a moment, and Ella put a hand on his belt and asked, "May I?" Steve nodded, and she undid the belt while he shrugged the shirt off, a puddle of night sky on the floor behind him. She unfastened his pants and tugged everything down. Steve reached down to finish removing shoes, socks, and the rest, and then as Ella shrugged the bathrobe off, he stood there, naked, in front of her.

His cock was nicely proportioned to the rest of him – not ridiculously large (which Ella was grateful for – she’d never understood the whole size obsession thing – after all, large could be really uncomfortable) and definitely very hard. He really was beautiful to behold, and as Ella looked at him, she suddenly felt very self conscious.

As if he could tell, Steve reached for her and picked her up and sat her on the bed, kissing her deeply. After a moment, Ella put her hands on his chest and pulled away, scooching all the way onto the bed and crooking a finger at him to join her. He smiled and shrugged and climbed onto the bed. Ella motioned for him to lay down on his back and he did, looking a little nervous again.

She reached out for his cock with a questioning look, and he nodded. She stroked it gently a few times and he moaned. Ella stroked harder and he arched his back a little. She said, "Are you ready? Should we go ahead?" and he nodded breathlessly. Ella reached for the condom and tore it open, showing it to him. The back of her mind said he probably knew how to use one in theory, even if he hadn't really had practice, but Ella was in teaching mode. And that was helping her focus and not get nervous about who he was or the fact that this would mean she would be his first time.

So she narrated, "You leave a little gap at the top, you know, to leave room for stuff," and showed him, placing it on the head of his cock. "Then you hold it with one hand and use the other to unroll it," and she did so. He moaned again as she did it. "Okay?" Steve nodded.

Ella climbed on top of him (he looked just as good horizontal as he did vertical) and gently lowered herself onto him, using a hand to guide him inside her. He thrust a bit as she did so, and she saw that she would probably have to stop after only a little while, because as he had feared, he probably *would* run the risk of injuring her if he lost control.

So Ella said, "If you can hang out there, for a minute, I can do the hard work, do the motions." Steve nodded. She leaned forward, pulling him deeper inside her, and placed her hands on either side of his head, kissing the underside of his chin as he pushed his head back against the mattress, mouth open as he moaned in pleasure. She, for her part, was so turned on from all the talking and kissing and foreplay – and she had enough experience that she knew just the right way to move – that she succeeded in orgasming rather rapidly. It was a nice one, too: lasted just long enough to let the sensations spread from her loins throughout her body before fading away.

Ella put her hand up along his neck to cup the back of his skull and sink her fingers in his hair, rhythmically tightened her pelvic floor muscles, and then after a moment felt another orgasm come over her, even more intense than the first, though shorter. Steve had put his hands on her waist, holding her tight, and was moaning along with her, and moving, and Ella could feel him harden even further inside her. She orgasmed a third time – and this one radiated sensation all the way out to her fingers and toes, it felt like – then she gasped, "I'm going to finish with my hands – okay?" and he nodded urgently and let her go. 

She carefully climbed off and laid to the side, and then took hold of his cock, stroking harder and harder and faster and faster until he arched his back and groaned and she could feel him come. She’d gotten lucky, there, because she didn't know what he liked, but she didn't think too hard about it.

There was a moment where Ella was about to take her hand away but Steve put his hand over hers, and then wrapped his other arm around her, giving her a slight squeeze.

They laid there for a while, stretched out side by side on the bed, him with his arm around her. Eventually, he swallowed, breathing slowing, and said, "Thank you."

Ella turned and nestled into the crook of his arm and said, "You're very welcome. Thank *you*."

Steve laughed, licking dry lips. He opened his eyes and looked over at her. "So, that's how modern girls do it, huh?" She laughed and said, "Well, it's one way. It's a way I like. But there are lots of ways." He chuckled. "Well, maybe you can show me some other ways another time."

Ella sat up on one elbow and said, "Of course. I mean, it's the least I can do for my country, right?" He playfully punched her in the arm. Which hurt a little, of course, and she must have made a face as she rubbed her arm. Steve immediately said, "Sorry," and she said, "It's okay. You are Captain America, after all." Ella got quiet, as the weight of who and what he was settled in on her. She had been so focused on her own pleasure, and his, and on making the communication happen so it was healthy pleasure, that she had mostly managed to keep that out of her thoughts.

He stroked a stray hair out of her face and said softly, "I told you, it's just Steve." Ella smiled at him and said, "Okay, Steve." He smiled back and she curled up next to him, pulling the covers sideways over them.

They were silent for a while, basking in the glow of endorphins and mammalian comfort. Eventually he murmured, "So, what now?" 

Ella sighed. "I guess we check with Jarvis about the clothes... I could probably use another shower, now I'm all sweaty..." Steve laughed. "No, I mean... what it means that we did this. I'm following your lead, here."

"Oh," Ella said. Her own words from earlier drifted back to her: 'sex positive' and 'keep an eye on how we feel afterward.' So he was checking in. He was a quick learner, really. Ella admired that. "Well... I enjoyed myself. Did you?"

"Definitely," Steve said. Ella smiled and allowed herself a moment of pride. She pondered the question of 'what now' for a few more moments, and then continued. "I said we didn't have to date or anything, and, I mean, I've been super busy with my work, recently. I wasn't necessarily looking for something serious."

Steve nodded. "Sure. I'm gone a lot – I get called in without warning for SHIELD missions. I don't think it would be fair to you... or to anyone, really... to actually date."

Ella thought about it a bit more, and decided to just tell him what she’d been thinking when she’d offered to be intimate with him: "I also kind of recently got out of a long-term relationship, and that was super painful; and eventually I'll be heading back to California. So that's another couple reasons I wasn't really looking for something serious. So... I think it can just be what it was. A fun evening." She looked up at him. Steve scrunched his neck down a little to look back at her.

"Sure," he said. He didn't sound totally convinced, but he didn't seem to want to say more. 

"Steve? Are you leaving something out? Were you... *were* you interested in something long-term?" Ella started to feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all? Maybe she had got herself into more than she had meant to... but even as she felt a little uneasy, she also felt sure she wouldn't change what they'd done. She really did like him, and it had been deeply satisfying, on multiple levels. But the thought of actually having a relationship with him seemed so improbable, it almost didn't even bear worrying about the details.

Steve looked away and sighed. "I don't know. I don't think so, but..." he trailed off.

Ella sat up and scooched close to him, wrapping the sheet around herself to stay warm. "I guess... I mean, I don't want this whole thing to put pressure on you. Tell me what you're thinking."

Steve looked back, face unreadable. Then he seemed to decide something. "Maybe this is going to seem weird. Especially after we just..." he trailed off. Ella nodded encouragingly. "Most things don't seem weird to me," she said. "Go on."

Steve sighed. "Here's the thing. Natasha is always trying to set me up with people, always bugging me about dating, prying into my love life. Sometimes it drives me crazy." He laughed. "And I feel like if she heard about this I'd get a huge 'I told you so.' But..." he paused, and for a while didn't seem like he was going to go on. Eventually, though: "There is this nurse. She lives across from me in DC. I can't explain it, but... I feel... drawn to her. She's nice, and she seems very capable, and she's pretty. But I just can't seem to bring myself to ask her out."

Ella nodded. "I know the feeling. I've definitely been there. Trying to figure out what might be a good opportunity to start up a conversation, what might be an opening to start to get to know someone. That's hard. But... if you think you have a shot with her, then definitely don't feel like this evening's... activities... somehow attach you to me." Ella meant what she said. After all, at that moment, she was uncomfortable with the idea of being tied down herself anyway.

"Huh," Steve said. "What?" Ella asked. He smiled, and responded, "Well... you keep surprising me with the things you're willing to talk about."

She laughed. "I'm pretty much willing to talk about anything. You can count on that. I mean, I'm heading back to DC the day after tomorrow, but you could always look me up when you're in town, if you ever want to talk about anything." Steve nodded and smiled. Then Ella yawned. "Hmm... what time is it?" she asked.

Steve leaned over to read the clock on the side table. "Quarter after 1 am." 

"How did that happen?!" she exclaimed. Though... really, she knew how it had happened, she thought smugly. "I'll bet the clothes are ready. And I should probably get home."

Steve looked a little wistful, but said, "Sure." It didn't really occur to her to stay overnight; and even if it had, she would probably have realized that she didn't quite want to face the potential of the other Avengers noting that she'd spent the night, or Artemis’ inevitable teasing. Though... that part would probably happen anyway.

So, she made a move to get up, but he put his hand on her arm. "Thank you. For all of it." Ella smiled, leaned down, paused, tentatively kissed him, and said, "You're really welcome. I enjoyed all of it." Steve smiled up at her as she got off the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up.


	9. Chapter 9

### Part Three

_  
March 2nd, 2014_

_Dear Steve,_

_I’m headed back to DC, on the train. I have always preferred rail travel to air travel... it gives me time to think. And there's something soothing about the feeling of the train's movement._

_I just wanted to write to you, while this was all fresh in my mind. I wanted to say to you how much I've appreciated all our conversations over the last month._

_You said to me, that last night, that you were surprised about the kinds of things you could talk to me about. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you can talk to me about anything._

_So... now that I'm headed back to DC, I just want to make sure you remember you can call me any time. I know we'll both get distracted with everything in our everyday lives. But I think friendship and support are so important. Please don't hesitate to write or call. And... I wouldn't mind reprising some of our other activities, too, if that is of interest. ;)_

_Wishing you all the best,_

_Ella  
_

~*~

Months later, washing his face at Sam's place after escaping the air strike at Camp Lehigh, Steve replayed in his mind the conversation with Natasha from the ride up. 

"It was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead," he'd said. He'd been relieved that he could truthfully say it. And not that he’d kiss and tell, even to Natasha, but he was also a little relieved that he’d done more than just kiss, and *he* knew that, at least. Steve felt a moment of gratitude for the discretion and generosity with which Ella had handled his inexperience. 

But, regardless of whether he had kissed anyone since 1945, it *had* been a while. He'd even made a somewhat feeble attempt to ask out that nurse... well, agent, anyway, whatever her name actually was, from across the hall in DC. Of course, she'd just been friendly to him because she was keeping an eye on him for Fury. Steve’s mind wandered as he dried off his hands, thinking that maybe if he got out of all this, he *should* try to call Ella up. 

He shoved the thoughts away. At the moment, there wasn't time to think about romance. They were in the thick of it: HYDRA was still alive and well, embedded in SHIELD, no less. But... maybe he should think more about his love life once this was all over. And maybe he should reach out to Ella, to at least talk with her, like she’d offered... though at the moment, how could he begin to tell her what it was like to be hunted by your own government, to have people who you had utterly trusted turn out to be serving the worst master you could imagine? He rubbed his face with his hands and tiredly ran them through his hair. Just got to keep going, he thought. Keep moving, figure out how to get out of this situation.

Steve turned to leave the bathroom and saw Natasha sitting on the bed, looking like death warmed over. He sighed, and walked over, searching for a way to reach out to her. He'd seen many different looks on her face over the time he'd worked with her – but never this one. Never such a cold, bleak openness. "You okay?" he asked. She looked over at him and murmured softly, "Yeah." 

He didn't believe that for a second. "What's going on?" He needed to know where she was, what he could count on her for, if they were going to get out of this situation. And... she was his friend, and he cared about her. He didn’t have that many people he could call friends – so he’d better take care of the ones he had.

~*~

When SHIELD collapsed, Ella wasn't sure what to think. News of a hunt for Captain America, and then HYDRA infiltration and manipulation... in a way, it was all too much to take. At first she didn't even think about Steve’s safety – she was thinking about all the Avengers, all the people she'd met who worked for SHIELD, wondering who was who they appeared to be, and who wasn't... though of course, she hadn't seen any of them since. And when Ella thought about it, maybe she hadn't worried about Steve at first because he seemed so indestructible in this kind of situation. But she did feel bad for not having called him in the intervening months since her time in New York.

After that last evening, before she'd left for home, they'd exchanged phone numbers. In the glow of the evening, it had seemed like it would be great to get together again. After all, they were both living in DC. But then when she got back to work, she was so busy that she hadn't ever gotten around to calling him.

Ella’s work with the aid agencies was going well, trying to get people to use local and Indigenous knowledge in deciding what solutions worked best for 'developing' countries – instead of the usual 'one size fits all,' 'top-down' policies. To try to get them to see that the best ideas came from the people themselves, not some white person in an air-conditioned office halfway around the world who made, in an hour, more money than they did in a month. Certain people at the agency were open to what she had to say, and that was gratifying; but when it went well it meant that much more work for her as she was invited to more committee meetings and asked to write up white papers on the subject.

So Ella told herself later that she hadn't called Steve because she was so busy, but the truth of it was that she felt more and more intimidated as time went on. Had he really been interested? Had it just been the strange situation Tony had put them in? Ella had certainly enjoyed it, and she certainly replayed it plenty in her mind when she needed a certain buzz... but in the light of her everyday life it was just too difficult to believe that he would actually be interested in her, even as a friend. And then, of course, Ella reasoned that there were always things he was needed for – he had to be even busier than she was.

But then, when SHIELD collapsed, Ella was at work and they all watched the media footage of the helicarriers crashing into the building and the river. Then a few days went by, with no news about him, and she started to worry. She almost tried calling him then, wondering if he was okay. But she figured even under the best of circumstances, he was probably totally overwhelmed. And after all it had been months since they'd been together in New York. Eventually there were reports that he had survived the disaster, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered about that, too. Was she more relieved than just finding that a friend was okay after a disaster? Anyway. She still should have called him, and she didn't.

But then it was June. Her post with the aid agency was over, and it was time to go back to California. Ella didn't even know if he was still in town, after what had happened with SHIELD. But she felt guilty that she'd never called, so she got over her fear that he wouldn't answer, or he would answer and then not want anything to do with her. And maybe she was also slightly afraid that he *would* want to see her... not sure what that would mean, with her going back to California. But the glow of that night was still strong in Ella’s memory, and the guilt of not having called, even when the disaster had been going on, and now being about to leave... eventually it all drove her to drop him a line. 

"Call Steve," Ella told her phone. It dialed. She waited nervously. It rang for a while, and she almost lost her nerve. He'd typed the number into her phone himself, so Ella couldn't tell herself maybe she had the wrong number. She lost focus for a moment, remembering him entering his name into her phone that night, still shirtless. Ella had managed to get most of her clothes back on. They were apparently stained, but she figured it was no matter as she was headed straight back to Art's place. And it had been worth it. She had slid her hand along his side and up his chest, and as he finished entering information into the phone, he leaned down and kissed her: a long, slow, lingering kiss. The memory excited her now, standing in the kitchen nervously waiting for him to answer. Ella had stood there with her hand on his chest, and could feel his heartbeat, and it seemed... larger, somehow, than a normal person. Captain America... she was calling Captain America. Ella came suddenly back to the present, and was about to chicken out and hang up, when he picked up. 

"Hey! How are you?" Hearing Steve’s voice instantly relaxed her and simultaneously wound her up. He sounded happy to hear from her, she thought.

"Hi, Steve... I'm doing well. How are you doing? Are you... are you still in DC?" Ella responded, a little too loud and quickly.

He chuckled. "Yes, I'm still here. I'm fine. We've been really busy trying to clean up the mess after what happened with SHIELD." Ella noted that he didn't give any details over the phone. She could imagine why.

There was a sort of awkward pause in which neither of them seemed to know what to say, and then Ella plunged in with, "So, my fellowship is over, and I'm going to be heading back to California next Wednesday..."

Steve responded, "Oh, I'm sorry you're leaving." A pause. He sounded appropriately sad, but Ella couldn't really tell what that meant. Was he actually disappointed, or just being polite? So she decided to go for it. "I was thinking maybe we should try to grab lunch before I left?"

"Sure, lunch would be great." Ella couldn't read his tone of voice at all. Was this just awkward and he was willing to have lunch with her because there wasn't a gentlemanly way to say no? Oh well, it was already out there.

"Great," she made herself say brightly. "How about the pub across from the USAID office? I'll be there on Monday finishing up with them, so maybe 12:30 or 1 pm?"

"Sure. 1 pm is great. See you then," he said. There was another awkward silence.

"Okay, bye!" Ella said. "Bye," he responded. Then she hung up. Her heart was beating kind of fast and she felt queasy, but sort of accomplished. Well, there you go, Ella thought, I was brave and set it up, and now we will see what happens. Can't say I didn't try!

Then her thoughts wandered back to all the evenings they'd talked and laughed and contemplated a better world, and thought to herself, maybe he really did want to see her. And then she thought again of that night... of how he had moaned, and arched, and how both vulnerable and strong he was at once... and she found she needed to go take a little break and satisfy her libido before she could get back to packing up her apartment. It would be good to see him again, she thought. Who knows what will happen, but it will be good to see him.


	10. Chapter 10

Ella would have been more nervous about the lunch date if she'd had time to think about it. But she was so busy wrapping up nearly a year of living in DC, and preparing to go back to California, that she really didn't have a lot of time to think about it. And she was also probably avoiding thinking about it. She let all the little things distract her from wondering what would happen when she saw him again.

Ella had told herself, over and over, that she'd decided that night to be intimate with him because she felt that she respected him and was attracted to him and he apparently felt the same way about her. That it could be only that. A moment of appreciation and mutual pleasure, and a happy (and delicious) memory. But now that Ella was faced with seeing him again, she wasn't sure how to act towards him. She wasn't sure how she felt about him. Even if she had wanted a more long-term relationship with him, surely she couldn't 'keep' Steve Rogers. It just didn't compute, on several levels. 

But the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she was trying to convince herself. The more she worried that maybe she'd opened herself up to falling for him, and wanting more than was realistic. She really had meant it, at the time, when she'd said that it could just be a nice night together, and they could still be friends. But the idea of a one-night-stand had been an experiment for her. Well, she supposed she was about to test that.

At any rate, the moment arrived. Ella finished her business at the USAID office, and walked the block to the pub. Pushed open the door, stood there blinking near the front, letting her eyes adjust to the darker room.

"One for lunch?" asked the host. Ella shook her head, scanning the room: "No, I'm meeting someone..." and as she said it, she spotted Steve, in a booth near the back. "And I've just located him," she added. The host smiled and gestured for her to go on in.

Ella walked towards Steve, who was leaning casually on the table, wearing a leather jacket and looking pretty comfortable with himself. She felt a surge of adrenaline, thinking how good he looked, how attracted she was to him... and a second later, her heart sank as she realized she was definitely both physically and emotionally attracted to him. She was definitely in trouble. Ella tried to start telling herself to calm down, he's just a friend, just let it be how it is... for all you know, he's dating that nurse from across the hall.

Steve saw her approach and stood to greet her. As Ella walked up, there was a moment of awkwardness where it wasn't clear if they should hug or shake hands or something else. She sort of put her hand out and he took it, but gently, and she naturally put her other hand on his. "It's good to see you," Ella said, softly.

Steve smiled (she had forgotten how revelatory his smile was) and said, "It's good to see you too." A moment went by, both of them apparently unwilling to let go. Ella’s storm of thoughts and emotions calmed down a bit as they stood there and she remembered how easy he was to be with. She desperately wanted to throw her arms around him, she was so glad to see him and to feel that actually being with him was not this strange, stressful thing she had been afraid of – and that he was all right after the disaster with SHIELD and HYDRA. But she wasn't sure how he felt, so she stuck with holding his hand. Steve didn't seem in a hurry to let go either.

He did eventually step to the side and say "Shall we?," helping Ella into the seat. She slid around the bench of the booth, not sure how far to end up from him. She didn't want to end up on the other side of the table – she wanted to be close to him – but that seemed awkward, so she split the difference and sat three quarters of the way around. The place setting was then too far away, so she slid her silverware closer. Steve observed this, and a slight smile played across his lips as he sat down.

"So, how was the rest of your time at USAID?" he asked.

It was easy to talk to him. That was something Ella had remembered, and as they talked, she realized that it was something she would miss. "It went well," she said. "I think I was really able to make some connections with people in the agency, and show them how important local solutions are when resources on the ground are so scarce... both the community's own resources and the aid resources." Steve nodded. "I mean, it's a large machine I was trying to move. But I think I made some adjustments and applied some force at key leverage points... I hope it will make a difference." Steve nodded, smiling again.

He opened his mouth to respond, or maybe to ask another question, when the server walked up to the table. "Can I get you started with something to drink?" she asked.

"Just water, thanks – no ice," Ella said. The server nodded, and looked expectantly at Steve. He asked, "What do you have on tap?" As the server rattled off various kinds of beer and he considered a choice, Ella took a moment to look at him. Clean cut and handsome didn't really begin to cover it... but as she watched him, she realized that the thing that was so appealing was the easy way he responded to people. And he was even more at ease now than when Ella had first met him – even after everything with SHIELD and HYDRA. 

She watched as he laughed and said something funny to the server about the menu. Friendly, personable... he put people at ease, seemed to want to engage with them, to care about them, even total strangers. Ella supposed she thought of herself that way, too. She was the person on the train or elevator who would strike up a conversation with someone new, just because. This is really what made him Captain America – that he wanted to care for people, defend people, no matter who they were.

Of course, Ella had only seen the friendly, personable side of him. She hadn't seen the side of him that was a soldier, a trained killer. She thought of her cousin who had been in the army, in the infantry... he had a sweet personality, too, and was another person Ella didn't want to imagine in combat, both because of the fear for his safety and the fear of knowing what horrible things he might have done and would now have to live with. He didn’t talk much about it, and she didn’t ask. And now, she thought, Steve must have to live with horrible memories, too.

The server finished taking his order and walked away. Steve folded up the menu and leaned on the table, looking back at Ella contemplatively. He said, "Penny for your thoughts?"

She laughed a little at the turn of phrase, and he smiled. She considered whether to tell him what she had actually been thinking. They had certainly talked about war and about society, all those months ago. But Ella didn't think they'd really talked about anything so close to home for him – it had all been in the abstract. So she shook her head a little and searched for a way to say something related. "I was just thinking about the fact that it must feel good to defend people who are helpless." Steve looked down at the table.

"Yeah, it does," he said seriously. "The little guy..." he said more quietly.

"Sorry, what was that?" Ella asked.

Steve looked back up at her, and she had trouble reading what was in his eyes. Seemed like it was partly pain, and partly triumph. Sadness, and satisfaction, mixed together. It suddenly struck Ella that even if he acted more comfortable with himself and with the modern world now, he did also look older than when she’d seen him last; the whole SHIELD/HYDRA situation had taken its toll on him. 

Steve began, "I *was* the little guy. I got beat up a lot. Bucky," he paused, a conflicted look passing over his face. Ella noted it wasn't just sad, like it had been before – something else was going on there. But then he shook his head, continuing, "When he was around, he got me out of a lot of... situations. But I would stand up for my ideals, and then get kicked around, because I was too weak, physically, to defend myself." 

Ella thought to herself as he spoke that it was one thing to see the photos of him, before the transformation, and another to hear from him directly what it had been like to be like that, to be that person. Steve went on: "When I got the serum, I... well, I felt like I'd been given a chance to defend all of the other little guys." Then he stopped, apparently thinking about it. 

Then a moment later, it occurred to him to add: "...and gals. Or people. Whatever the right term is now." This seemed a bit lighter, more like Ella remembered him. She laughed and said, "I knew what you meant. It's the gender-neutral 'guys.' But thanks for paying attention to that." He laughed a little, too.

"Speaking of that, how is the little-guy defending going these days?" Ella asked, slightly playfully. "Whatever you can tell me," she added.

Steve nodded, and paused as the server brought their drinks. "Have we decided on lunch?" she asked.

Ella said, "I'll have the veggie burger, with a side salad. Vinaigrette, please." The server looked at Steve. He ordered a burger and fries, but this time Ella was watching the server while he spoke. Ella realized suddenly that the server knew who he was... well, of course she did. All the Avengers were all over the news back after the attack on New York. And Steve was memorable. And not really trying to hide his identity at the moment. The server was doing a pretty good job of keeping her cool about it, but Ella could tell that she had recognized him. Ella wondered what that meant for his day-to-day life in general. How much of the time did he try to go unnoticed? Was he uncomfortable in situations like this? He was so often humble about everything he did... but on the other hand, Ella supposed, he was also used to being an icon.

What would it mean for her, if this turned into anything more serious than friendship? That thought snapped Ella out of her musing. Stop thinking like that. There are so many reasons that isn't going to happen. And she still hadn't asked him about that nurse.

It was a good thing Ella started paying attention, because Steve was watching her again. The server had gone, and he was waiting for Ella.

"Sorry," she said. "Lost in thought again." He raised an eyebrow. "What about?"

Ella flushed a bit, and stammered, "I..I just noticed that I think the server recognized you. I wondered if it was strange to be famous." She stopped lamely. She didn't mean to press him on personal things so much, especially after not having seen him for months. And these were probably the questions he got all the time. She'd gotten better, after her first question about the world changing, about asking him questions that weren't the obvious ones... but there it was.

Steve leaned back against the booth, looking off into the distance and folding his hands on the table. He sighed. "I'm used to it. It's always been a little strange, to be so important to people I've never met. Still, it means that sometimes people trust me, people talk to me... sometimes it means I get to know people better than I would otherwise." He looked over at Ella speculatively, and she felt a wave of heat run through her body. He'd gotten to know her a lot better than she would have guessed...

Steve looked away. "But sometimes it makes people more nervous and stiff. Anyway, it means I don't have that many people I would call friends. But I have a huge number of fans."

Ella shook her head, and said, "I'm sorry – that seems so lonely." He looked back at her again inscrutably and responded, "Well, that's just part of my life. Like I said, I'm used to it." Something weary in his voice told Ella that it was something he resigned himself to, and maybe regretted a little.

She leaned her elbows on the table, inclining herself towards him. She said, "You know you can always call me if you want to talk, about anything at all." Steve smiled at her and crossed his arms. He said, "Thank you. I might just take you up on that."

Ella added impulsively, "And if you ever want to come to California, you can crash with me." What was she saying! She wasn't really sure whether she was testing the waters, trying to gauge his interest in her, or if she was just offering something to a friend, or maybe both. But it was out there. "If you like," she added hastily.

Steve laughed. "I might take you up on that, too." Ella’s heart nervously skipped a little. At that moment, the food arrived. She started to eat her salad, and he sipped his beer contemplatively. "Um... did you ever ask that nurse out, from across the hall?" she finally had the courage to ask.

Steve glanced at her a little sourly. Ella worried that he was irritated at her for asking, but then he said, "No – it turned out she was a SHIELD agent, assigned to watch me, by Nick Fury. Basically, no one was what they seemed in that whole situation. I think she works at the CIA now."

Ella put her fork down. The extent of her relief that he wasn't dating the nurse was a little alarming; and at the same time she felt guilty to be relieved when it had obviously been a difficult situation for him. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Steve dismissed it. "It's all right. Not your fault." He changed the subject. "You asked how things were going with the... ah, cleanup." She nodded. "It's slow. We clear out a few things and then we find more. But we just keep working away at it. Really, in the big picture, it's going well."

"That's great," she said. He nodded. "It will be really great when this is finally done," he continued. "I wish it hadn't been necessary. I wish..." he trailed off, picking at his food and eating a fry or two.

"What?" Ella asked.

Steve looked sideways at her. "I wish I had known what was going on. I *should* have known what was going on. I keep thinking..." he trailed off again. Ella picked up her veggie burger and nibbled at it, waiting.

Eventually, he said: "I keep thinking I should start something new, something based on the Avengers. Something that might last longer than just this crisis."

Ella swallowed her food. "I think that's a great idea, Steve." He smiled at her briefly, then picked up his burger and began eating it. Ella was somewhat mystified at how he managed to scarf it down pretty fast without looking greedy or unattractive. She kept nibbling at her veggie burger, watching him, thinking about his metabolism and how much he must have to eat, and then thinking about his body, which she had been doing off and on over the last few months, but which suddenly became incredibly embarrassing when he was sitting right next to her. She swallowed a little wrong and coughed.

"You okay?" Steve asked, concerned. Ella nodded, and said scratchily, "Yeah, I'm fine." A few more minutes of eating in silence.

Ella took a long drink of water. Then she ventured, "What would you need to do that? To build something around the Avengers, I mean."

Steve leaned back again, looking at the ceiling. "I would need some guarantee that people would be available. We'd need to practice together, train together. This would definitely need to be a team, where we trusted each other with our lives and the missions we took on. No secret missions for individual team members." He looked slightly cross about that. Ella didn't ask. 

"I think we'd need to be independent of any specific government... though I haven't worked that out yet. The council that oversaw SHIELD didn't catch the underlying problems... Nick had to catch that. I don't know what to do about keeping that from happening again." Steve paused, looking sad. Ella didn't know if he meant Director Fury's death, or the corruption that had caused it. That story had been all over the news after Natasha had dumped SHIELD's files onto the internet. Feeling moved by compassion for his loss, Ella put her free hand on his arm. He looked over and smiled at her, putting his hand over hers. Ella forgot what she was doing and thinking and melted a bit at his touch and smile.

"It's okay. We're making progress to fix it. We have to do the cleanup before we can build anything new," he said. 

"Well, I'm glad it's going well," she said. He nodded. "Thanks."

At this point most of their food was gone. Steve leaned out of the booth, grabbed a stray menu from a nearby table and began flipping through it. "Hey," he asked conspiratorially. "Want to split a milkshake? I'm a sucker for ice cream."

Ella swallowed hard. Did he mean 'split a milkshake' like you saw in 50s movies? As in, two straws and gazing intently into each others’ eyes? That was a bit after his time, she thought, but still. She said, "Sure, I love ice cream too." Then she forgot her nervousness, remembering all the great ice cream places near San Francisco. "Hey, if you like ice cream, then you definitely have to come visit me. Fenton's in Oakland is famous, and so is Ghiradelli in San Francisco." He laughed. "I thought Ghiradelli made chocolate?" he asked. 

"Yeah, but they have ice cream too, and it's really good." Enthusiasm for her home had momentarily driven all the nervous thoughts out of Ella’s mind. She started telling him about various places and things to do in California, while the server arrived and took their plates away and Steve ordered a vanilla milkshake. The server asked if they wanted two straws, and he said yes. Mid-sentence, Ella’s heart flip-flopped, but she tried to focus on telling him about the complicated history of Alcatraz, including the indigenous history and prison history and, more recently, tourism history.

"My mother just went to an art exhibit there on incarcerated persons. Apparently it was really great – I'm sad I missed it because I've been out here. Not that there aren't incredible museums here, of course!" She laughed, and he laughed with her.

Then, a little guiltily, Ella said, "I, ah, went to see the exhibit on you at the Smithsonian." He looked a little embarrassed. "It's nicely done," she added, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I went to see it a couple of times. It's the only way to see my friends again, and sometimes it feels like the only way I can connect back to the time I'm from..." He looked far away.

Ella sat there for a moment, thinking of what to say. At length, she added, "But, you know, what's in that exhibit... there's a lot of detail about you. But it really doesn't capture what you are really like. What it's like to talk with you and be with you. Who you really are." Steve looked at her, deeply serious. He held her gaze for a few minutes, and Ella wondered what he was thinking.

Eventually he looked away, forcing a little bit of a laugh. "Well, now you probably know more about me than I do." Ella laughed with him. "I doubt that," she responded. "But I'm always happy to learn more from the real thing," she added. Steve smiled at her.

The milkshake arrived, and to Ella’s disappointment and relief, they ended up alternately sipping it, handing it back and forth. It was a decent milkshake. Not as good as Ghiradelli's, though, and she said as much. They chatted and laughed and generally enjoyed each others' company for some time, long after the milkshake was finished. They talked about many different topics – current politics, national parks throughout the United States (most of which he had never seen), musical artists from the 80s and 90s when Ella was growing up, and the 20s and 30s when Steve was growing up. When the check came, he insisted on paying, and though Ella wasn't sure how to interpret that (did that make it a date?), and though she usually insisted on splitting the check, she decided to leave it alone. She thanked him, and he dismissed it in a gentlemanly fashion.

Then it was time to leave. They stood, and Ella gathered her things. She was carrying a backpack, because she'd cleaned out her desk of the last few things from her temporary office at USAID. She had it slung over one shoulder, like she'd always done in high school. She felt kind of like she had in high school. Nervous around him, not sure if he would go for a kiss goodbye, or a hug, or what.

Ella put her hand out tentatively, and he took it, but then leaned down and wrapped his other arm around her. She hugged him back, and said in his ear, "Steve, please do call me and come see me. You're not alone. Don't be alone." He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. Ella had really meant what she said. Nervousness or not, the thought of his loneliness was painful. Of all the people in the world who deserved comfort, who more than him? 

Steve nodded, and said, "I will." Then he leaned down again, and for a moment Ella contemplated kissing him on the mouth, but instead aimed for his cheek. He kissed her cheek back, but then inhaled slightly, and turned to kiss her full on the mouth, softly. 

It was an appropriately contained kiss for a public place, and light enough not to be presumptuous. But his hand tightened on Ella’s, between their bodies, and she felt him move slightly in a way that belied the appropriateness of the kiss. The feel of his lips on hers, and his hands, and his smell, and all of him, completely saturated her senses and the thinking part of her brain shut off for a moment.

Then the kiss ended (in reality, it had been brief enough), and Ella tried to breathe normally (and didn't succeed all that well). Steve added, "Besides, you need to show me some of the other things we talked about last time." He was smirking at her, eyes sparkling, but she decided he also meant what he said. Her heart pounded. He was interested! He was interested? What did that mean? 

Ella nodded shakily. Steve let her go, and she said, "Thanks for lunch."

"No problem," he said. "Safe travels to California."

"Thanks." Ella slung her backpack onto both shoulders and stepped away from him. She walked to the front of the restaurant and, putting her hand on the door, turned back and waved at him. He waved back, she pushed the door open, and went out into the bright sunlight.

~*~

Steve stood there for a moment, watching Ella go. Contemplating several things at once.

The server walked up to him with the receipt, which he signed (adding a generous tip). She watched him nervously. Steve smiled at her briefly.

"Um," she said shyly. "Um, can I have your autograph?" He smiled again and said, "Sure." She pulled out a faded picture of him, which he recognized as being one of the items you could buy at the Smithsonian. He picked up the pen he'd used to sign the sales receipt and signed the photo for her, "Thanks for a great lunch! Steve Rogers." She watched him anxiously, and then shakily took the photo back after he finished and handed it to her. She looked a little uncertain, and then said, "Thanks – I wasn't sure I should ask, and I didn't want to disturb you and your girlfriend."

"Oh, she's not my girlfriend, she's just a good friend," he said automatically. She nodded and walked away, looking down at the autograph and seeming a bit giddy.

Steve started for the door and as he walked out into the bright sunlight he thought about that. She's not my girlfriend, he thought. He reassured himself that he hadn't somehow disrespected her by denying it. But, he thought to himself, I think I can say she's a good friend. He'd said that without hesitation.

"Huh, imagine that," he said aloud to the empty sidewalk. He half smiled and headed back to his apartment, thinking to himself that it wasn't so bad to have a few friends.


	11. Chapter 11

### Part Four

__

_December 18th, 2014_

_Dear Ella,_

_As always, thanks for your last letter. Please do keep writing to me. I really enjoy hearing from you. I got an apartment in New York, so you can send them to the return address on the envelope._

_Also, it occurred to me that part of why I like writing to you is that it might actually be a more confidential way to send messages than anything online. After what happened with SHIELD... I like the idea of having someone I can talk to that no one can be listening in on._

_Anyway, we’ve been going after the last few things from our clean-up. But we’re closing in on it. It’s been good to work so well with the others – Tony still gives me his fair share of crap, but even with that, we feel more and more like a team, the longer we work together. It almost reminds me of how it was with my team back in Europe during the war._

_Sometimes I think about you saying I shouldn’t be alone. I guess I feel less alone now. It’s a good feeling. I wanted you to know that. Thank you for reminding me that I need support. And thanks for being part of that support._

_Best wishes,_

_Steve_

__

~*~

Steve woke with a start. He looked over at the clock – 1 a.m. He sighed and rolled over. 

He'd been dreaming again. No, not dreaming. It was mostly a memory. It wasn't quite a nightmare, but... it was disturbing. 

He thought to himself, of all the traumatic things he'd experienced, this was a strange one to keep coming up. There were more violent things, more painful things (both emotionally and physically)... but for some reason in the days following the destruction of Sokovia and the entire business with Ultron, this was the thing that kept coming back to him: Either the vision Wanda had put in his mind, or Ultron's words to him just before that... about pretending he could live without a war.

Did he only exist for war? He didn't want to. But he was trained as a soldier, he was good at it. He was good at leading, at strategy. He knew how to minimize casualties in difficult situations. And, sadly, it did seem like there was always a need for those skills... there always was war.

What would he do if there weren't war? Steve turned over again onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Wanda's vision... it had had a flash of happiness, dancing with Peggy... but was mostly full of the shock of coming home from war and finding that nothing was an emergency anymore... and then finding everyone gone. Being alone. Being completely alone.

So he was either good for nothing but war, or alone. Maybe both.

Frustrated, he threw the sheets off and stood. He paced around the room a bit, trying to clear his head.

The thing that was most frustrating was that there was no one to talk to about this. He could probably talk to Natasha, but... that didn't seem quite right. And he could see in her eyes, sometimes, that her vision from Wanda was still haunting her, too. Steve didn’t really want to pile this on top of that. He'd been racking his brains, but there really wasn't anyone he felt he could talk to about this kind of thing. No one who had ever asked about him and he had not minded answering, except... he stopped mid-stride.

Ella was back in California. Three hours behind him. He generally preferred to write her rather than call her, for privacy reasons, mostly, but also because his schedule was so irregular. But this felt so… immediate. He had to admit to himself that he really wanted to hear her voice. She had said he could call her anytime... and he believed that she'd meant it. Maybe now was the time to take her up on it. And 10 pm wasn't so late... He vacillated for a few moments, and then grabbed the phone. He took a deep breath, and dialed.

 

~*~

It was, for Ella, a Thursday night like any other. She was up late, planning to work a few more hours on research-related tasks. She'd just made some herbal tea. She was standing in her kitchen, stirring in the honey, when her phone rang. She started, because she had been lost in thought about work, and because it was loud, even buried in her bag, on the other side of her little one-room apartment. Who would be calling now anyway? She walked over to her desk and dug the thing out, and looked at the caller ID.

There was a split second where Ella couldn't remember what Steve it could mean, but a moment later she almost dropped the phone. Steve was calling her? Sure, they’d written letters to each other periodically in the last year, since lunch in DC. But he’d never called her, despite the fact that she’d reminded him that he could. What had changed? Suddenly completely unnerved, she thumbed right to answer the call.

"Steve?" she said.

"Hey... I hope it isn't too late over there," Yes, indeed, it was Steve Rogers, calling her. Not some kind of abstract pen-pal – he was actually calling her. Ella felt a fresh wave of incredulity about the fact that she was legitimately friends with Captain America, but then tried not to let the weirdness of it hit her too hard. Instead, she focused on the simple arithmetic of figuring out what time it was on the east coast. But then, she thought, though she sent her letters to his apartment in New York, he could easily be out on assignment... he could be anywhere in the world; who knew what time it was where he was.

So she answered, "No, no, not too late here at all. I'm a night owl, anyway. But... what time is it where you are?" She paused; might as well just ask. "Actually, where are you, even?"

Steve laughed a little. "I'm in upstate New York. It's okay... I... I couldn't sleep." It seemed like such a strange and simple thing for him to say to her. She *had* said he could call any time... but it couldn’t just be that he couldn’t sleep. Why would that be the reason he finally called her?

So Ella said, "Steve, are you okay? I'm incredibly glad to hear your voice, but what made you call now of all times?"

The pause at the other end was long. Ella quickly pulled the phone away from her face to look at it to make sure the phone hadn't dropped the call. It sometimes did, in her little in-law unit in the hills.

Eventually, he said, "Well... you said I could call you if I ever wanted to talk." 

Ella said quickly, "Yes, of course! I definitely meant that! So... then is something wrong, that you need to talk about at..." pause for calculation, "... 1 am your time?"

Steve sighed. Ella waited.

At length, he said, "I've just been thinking... you know about everything that happened with Ultron?"

Ella had seen it on various internet websites and on the news. "Yes, at least what showed up in the media." Ella waited for him to go on.

"Well... there was this moment, where he said something to me about even pretending I could live without a war..." Steve paused for a really long time again. Ella re-checked that she hadn't lost the call. She hadn't; so she tried wait and give him the time to say what he needed to say. 

"And I've been thinking, what if all I am good for is war? If I couldn't exist without war?" He paused. Ella wasn't sure what to say to such a statement. She'd never had a friend come to her with this kind of problem... though a few of her friends had served in the military, she'd never actually talked with them about it. She didn't feel qualified to handle what sounded like a kind of post-traumatic emotional adjustment problem.

"I know I am defending people, defending peace. But... am I good for anything but fighting?" Steve asked. He sounded unhappy, and uncomfortable.

Ella jumped in immediately, "Yes! Yes, you are definitely good for lots of things other than fighting!"

"Such as?" he asked, somewhat bleakly.

Ella suddenly drew a blank. Not good, not good, she told herself. She had not been prepared to give Captain America a pep talk. But she needed to say something! 

Her mind a blur, Ella said, "I love talking to you, about anything, about everything... You have lots of really interesting and insightful thoughts about how the world has changed, what we could do differently... and you were a very good lover." 

Ella stopped after the word was out of her mouth, totally flummoxed that that was what she had said. She hadn't even been thinking about that part of things, but as she was frantically searching for what to say, she had said the things that came to mind without thinking. Those were the things about him with which she had direct experience, and they were positive and counter to war. Pleasure was counter to war, right?

The pause on the other end was, for her, painful. Oh, god, what had she done now? But a moment later he said, "Uh, thanks. I appreciate that." He sounded awkward, but less unhappy than he had.

Ella decided to go with it. "No, thank *you*," she said saucily. Steve chuckled a little, sounding less morose. That was reassuring. She decided to push a little harder on understanding his problem.

"Seriously, Steve, why are you even thinking this? Why do the words of an insane robot stick with you that much? Are there other things going on right now that are difficult, that maybe are resonating with this thing?" Ella asked.

Steve sighed. "I don't know. We've started working on the new Avengers team. It's going really well. Their skills are complementary, and they trust each other. They trust me. I trust them." He paused. "You would think that would cheer me up. But then in the middle of the night, sometimes... I just dream that he's asking me again... how I could live without a war." He paused again.

"That's rough," Ella said into the silence. She waited for a moment, then said, "I'm glad the new Avengers team is going well, though... tell me more about them." Let's get the focus back on the positive again, she thought.

Steve sighed, and she thought she heard him sit down in a chair. "Well, you've met Natasha. You probably already know something about her. And you remember Sam, right?"

"Yeah," Ella said. She’d taken a shine to Sam from the start – he was quiet, but slyly funny, and he always seemed to have his priorities right about life and living. She admired that in a person. Steve went on:

"Then there's Wanda. She was on Ultron's side at first, but when she realized he wanted to destroy us all, she and her brother Pietro joined us. Pietro... didn't make it." He paused. Ella didn't know what to say. She went with, "I'm sorry."

After a moment, he continued. "She has several unusual skills which are hard to describe. Some of them are more of an offense/defense angle, and some are more... ah, intrigue-related." Ella had the feeling that this was being deliberately left vague. She wasn't sure exactly why. After all, they had stopped Ultron, and her impression had been that HYDRA had been wiped out... so surely he wasn't worried about someone eavesdropping? Though of course that was possible. Or maybe he was respecting Wanda’s privacy? Ella didn't press it. "Uh-huh," she murmured encouragingly.

"And then there's Vision. He's... even harder to explain. He's somehow the product of Ultron and Jarvis and something that Thor added to the mix... He's both machine and organic, very powerful... to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what he can do. And I'm not sure he knows what he can do, yet. But I trust him completely. And... did you ever meet Rhodey? Colonel Rhodes, I mean. Tony's friend."

Ella tried to remember back to the gatherings in New York City. "No, I don't think so."

"He has one of Tony's old suits. They call him 'War Machine'..." he trailed off a bit. Ella thought maybe he'd strayed back to Ultron's comments. She almost wanted to say, 'you are not a war machine,' but instead she said, "That's great, Steve. Have you been out on any missions with them?"

He seemed to snap out of it. "Yeah, we have taken care of a few small situations together. Nothing of the magnitude that we were facing with Ultron or Loki and the Chitauri. But... they're shaping up nicely." Ella could hear the smile. He did sound pleased about them.

She said, "Steve, that's so great – something to be proud of."

"Yeah."

Ella wasn't sure what to say next. At some point the silence had gotten a little lengthy, and she contemplated asking him if he'd been seeing anyone since they'd last talked in person – it had been about a year, after all, and he hadn’t mentioned anyone in his letters – but then he said, "So... how are things going for you?"

That was a much safer topic. Ella flopped down on her bed and happily launched into a description of the latest modeling work she was doing, and the way she was checking the answers with a community she had just begun working with in California. This went on for some time, and though he sounded alert and interested at first, after she'd finished describing the main part of the project, she glanced at the clock and saw it had been an hour. It was 2 am there.

"Steve, do you need to go to sleep? You sound really tired..."

He yawned, as if on cue. "Well, I am... I just don't want to wake up again to this feeling that I'm... a one-trick pony." He made a wordless sound of frustration. "Why is this robot so hard to keep out of my mind?"

Ella thought for a minute. "Well, from what I've heard, he was partly Tony's creation, right? Tony is really charismatic," Steve snorted, and Ella continued, "Yeah, I know... but he is. So maybe Ultron is harder to dismiss than some of the other really bad people you've had to face."

"I could see that," Steve said grudgingly. He paused for a long time. Then: "I think, also, that it hits close to home. I was... enhanced... for a war that is long over. I do sometimes wonder what I'm good for, if not for war. I... I wonder sometimes whether I create war without knowing it, just to still have a purpose." Wow. That was heavy. The way he said it – cautiously, tentatively – Ella guessed that this was an incredibly vulnerable assertion. And that he was still trying to figure it out.

She responded, "I see what you mean. But how could you create war?"

She heard Steve stand up and start pacing. "I don't know. I just feel like... I should have done more to stop these things from happening. When it was Loki, you know, that was totally out of my experience. And I hadn't been... awake... for very long. But now... I feel like now I'm starting to see how the world works now. I should be able to do more to stop war than just fighting. Peggy created SHIELD to be... well, better than it was when I joined it, apparently." He stopped and was silent for a few minutes.

Ella ventured, "Steve, you can't be responsible for things you don't know about. Or didn't know about. From what you told me, the problems SHIELD had went back a long way, definitely to before you, um, rejoined us."

"I know, I know," he said dismissively. "But when it's so ingrained... I don't want my first thought to always be to fight."

Ella considered this. "I don't think it is. You don't always fight. You focus on teamwork, on ethics. Not just on the battlefield. When we've talked about all these things... I know your first thought isn't fighting."

Steve sighed, and Ella heard him sit down again. "You're right. I guess I also just..." he paused, sounding embarrassed. "I miss the other Avengers, a little. I wonder sometimes if I didn't drive them away, somehow." Hmm, Ella thought. Feeling alone, maybe? And then left with the feeling of being good for only the thing he was 'built' for.

So she said, "Well, let’s do an inventory, then? Remember that Tony is a total wild card. You can hardly be responsible for anything that he does. Who else went away? Clint isn't in your list of new Avengers..."

Steve said, "Clint went home on indefinite paternity leave. I'm the last person in the world to deny someone else their family." Since he didn't get to have one, Ella thought.

"And Bruce disappeared after the battle with Ultron. We don't know where he is. But... I know he was always uncomfortable with fighting. I know how hard it was on him. So I guess I'm not surprised about that. And Thor... said he had something he had to go check on. I'm not going to even pretend to understand what that was about."

"See – none of that was you driving them away," Ella said, reassuringly.

"I guess." He was silent for a bit.

Ella added, "I told you about Artemis, right? My best friend?" Steve said, "Yeah, I remember." 

"Well... I can tell you I’d feel pretty crappy if Artemis went away, even if I could tell myself it wasn’t because of me. She matters so much to me... and friendship is so important." He made a sound of assent.

Ella added, "So even if you didn’t drive them away, that doesn't mean you can't miss them." Steve laughed humorlessly. "Okay," he said.

She sighed. She wasn’t sure what else she could say to help him. She settled on: "Really, Steve... you are so much more than an enhanced soldier. I think you know that's true. I know that maybe doesn't help when you're half-asleep and your mind does a number on you. I've definitely been there." She paused, thinking for a moment. 

"But maybe... maybe you should find a... non-fighting hobby? Something tangible that would let you keep working on the feeling that you are more than a soldier? Something to remind you, especially in moments like these."

Steve seemed to be considering it. "That's a great idea, actually. I'll have to think about it." He paused for a while longer. Ella let him mull it over.

Eventually, he said, "I think maybe I should try to go to sleep now."

"Sure, sure, of course," Ella answered.

He paused again. "Uh, thank you, you know... for listening."

"Absolutely!" Ella said quickly. "You really can call me and talk anytime, pretty much. I mean, if I'm in meetings, I turn the ringer off, but... other than that... really, anytime."

Steve chuckled a little, then seemed to sober a bit. "You really are the only person I could think of to talk to about this." 

A little flustered and not sure what to say, Ella managed, "Um... thank you! I'm just glad you decided to call, instead of keeping it inside. These things... sometimes it helps to talk them out with a friend."

"Yeah, I think it did help. So, I appreciate it."

"Well, you're very welcome. Like I said, anytime." He laughed.

"Okay – good night."

"Good night, Steve. Sweet dreams." He hung up. Ella tossed the phone to the edge of the bed and laid there, sort of exhausted but elated. It had been a challenge to try to figure out what to say to help him... but really, it was for such a good cause. And the thought that he had come to her with this vulnerability... wow. So, he did at least think of her sometimes, other than when he wrote her the letters, which had been pretty brief. The thought was gratifying.

Ella had thought of him quite a lot after she'd gotten back to California. For a while, her mind had returned repeatedly to the sort of open-ended way they’d left things. But over the months, she'd slowly given up on it, because it all seemed so far away, the time she'd spent with him. But it was definitely pleasing to think that he trusted her and thought of her when he wanted someone to talk to about his challenges. 

She was so tired, though... she reached over and turned off the lamp, stripped off her clothes, tossed them off the bed onto the floor, and crawled into the sheets without getting up.


	12. Chapter 12

Steve was at the Avengers base when he got the news. Not even three full weeks since they'd started training after Ultron and Sokovia; Tony wasn't even done remodeling the buildings yet. 

A stroke, they said. That she'd never wake up again. He wasn't sure exactly how to take it. She wasn't dead; but... he'd never hear her voice again, even if her words had made less and less sense… he’d never see the light in her eyes again – which had still flickered with recognition when he talked to her, even that last time. Even if it was only a shadow of her former self. He wanted to go see her, though. Maybe it was some kind of weird optimism – that maybe she'd wake up when he was there, or somehow it wasn't so final as they made it sound.

So the next day he rode down to DC to see her at the care facility. It was a nice place, he knew. That was some comfort. But then there he was, outside her room, and the doctor was telling him, "I'm sorry, Captain Rogers." 

"How long?" he asked them. "Hard to know," the doctor answered. "At this point, it could be weeks, or even months. She has a 'do not resuscitate' directive, but she was always in such good shape that it could take a while... for her body to wind down." Steve nodded, feeling quite distant. 

He went in, and saw her sleeping there: her hair, still curly, in a cloud around her face, laid out on the pillow. Her face was so calm, smooth, serene... it was funny, he thought. She'd cultivated that look, back in the Strategic Science Reserve. Agent Carter, unruffled even in the face of all sorts of insults. But he could tell the difference now – this was actually an absence of worry, an absence of thought. 

He remembered the first time he'd ever seen her – how she'd knocked out Hodge when he insulted her. "Your Majesty," Hodge'd said, mockingly. Steve hadn't even had time, standing several men down the line, to feel defensive on her behalf, because she so quickly put Hodge in his place. Steve'd really only spent so much time with her, back then... and there had been so much to do. But... he was so grateful to her. Erskine may have given him the serum, and he'd maybe been the raw material Erskine was looking for... but it was Peggy’s faith in him, her insistence that he live up to his potential... that was what had really made him who he was.

As Steve watched her sleeping, he thought about how he must have looked, sleeping, after they pulled him from the ice. Was this what it was like? To look down on a person, and see that serene look? Had he looked serene? 

He sighed, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She was still warm, of course, but she didn't react at all. She really was gone. He felt grief well up, and clamped down on it, straightening, turning, and leaving the building.

Not really sure where he was going or what he was doing, he strode out of the building into the grounds, stopping in the midst of a grove of trees. He was startled to hear Fury's voice. "Steve. I'm sorry."

He looked up and saw that Nick was standing behind the trees. He was wearing sunglasses still, instead of the old eyepatch. "Thanks," Steve said lamely.

Nick looked at him through the glasses. He said, "I'm not really the soul-searching type, so I don't have anything particularly useful to say to you here... but I did want to see how you were taking it. I understand they're giving her a few months."

Steve looked down at his feet, and then away in the other direction towards the river at the edge of the grounds. "I'm fine," he said unconvincingly. "She's not actually gone yet." Even he could hear in his own voice that he wasn't fine.

Nick tilted his head sympathetically. "Okay. But I suggest that you think about taking some time off. You know, from work." It was clear that he meant from leading the Avengers.

Steve nodded, looking down again. "I hear you. I don't know that I really need it, but... maybe you're right."

Nick smiled sadly and said, "Trust me on this one, Cap. You won't be doing anyone any favors if your mind is still here," and he pointed back at the care facility.

Steve looked back over at him. Nodded. Fury stepped forward, offering a hand. Steve gripped it tightly, and they stood for a moment like that, and then his old director let go, inclined his head, turned, and left. Steve stood there for a while longer, hearing the soft sigh of the wind in the trees, and felt exactly what Nick was talking about.

~*~

It took Steve a few more days to really see, though, that he wouldn't be able to focus in a tight situation. It wasn't until he was training with his friends and something made him think of Peggy, and his attention lapsed at a key moment. He missed catching something Sam had thrown at him, which if it had been a real operation would have meant damage or loss of life. He saw he was betraying the people who were relying on his focus for their lives. They were lucky then, because they were practicing, but, if it had been a real situation... 

And it wasn't just Peggy; he kept thinking of Bucky, too. He was still out there, somewhere. Steve and Sam hadn't been able to track Bucky down definitively, but they'd found enough to know he was alive and in hiding. Steve found himself thinking more and more about both Peggy and Bucky – how they were both here, but not here... and he saw that his team couldn't count on him now. He would put them at risk if they counted on him. He would put lots of other people at risk, too. 

So he decided to take a break, like Nick had suggested. He told his friends that he was taking a little while off from work. Everyone was fine with it; they tried to express their concern for him, each in their own way. He appreciated it, dimly, but was mostly eager to get away from everyone for a while. He didn't like this feeling of emotional disarray. Usually the work distracted him from the loss of his life-that-could-have-been if he hadn't been frozen. Usually work was enough, keeping him focused on the people here and now. But it wasn't working. 

And Steve knew that Natasha could lead them for a while. She didn't say anything to him about the leave of absence. But he could see in her eyes that she was worried about him. He'd long since learned what her real concern looked like, and she was concerned. But he didn't say anything. He suspected that she knew exactly what was going on, but he didn't want to talk to her about it. He knew Sam was worried about him, too, but Sam kept his distance. He knew, better than other people, that Steve didn't tend towards needing special accommodations for emotional problems. If he was asking for them now... it must be serious, and it would probably stay private, until Steve felt like sharing. Sam was good at knowing when to ask and when not to.

So Steve went back to Brooklyn. He tried to stay in his apartment there, tried to think about other things. But even with the skin and flesh of the modern world stretched across them, the bones of the city were the same as they had been 70 years ago. So when he walked around town, he still saw the places he'd been, the life he had had. The ride in the car with Peggy to go for the procedure. Her concern for him, her amusement at his utter lack of social skills. Her relief when he came through the procedure intact... that precious few moments before the HYDRA agent detonated the bomb and killed Erskine... that moment where she almost touched him as he stood there reeling and breathing heavily and trying to steady himself – something he still had a distinct memory of, even in the post-procedure blur. Even after being buried in ice for 70 years.

It was only a few days of those kinds of memories before Steve realized he had to leave New York for a while, too. He thought about going to stay at Clint's place, but the idea of being with a family seemed uncomfortable. That was maybe the life he could have had... or maybe not. Maybe it would have been like it was now... even though the war was over, there was still always a use for him. So he always had missions. He wouldn't have done well as a father or husband, maybe. Different decade, but he betted it would have been the same problem. Though... if he had been with Peggy... maybe somehow they could have worked it out. She'd ended up having kids... and maybe they would have founded SHIELD together with Howard... maybe he could have figured out what Zola was up to, and could have stopped the infiltration of HYDRA into SHIELD. 

The could-have-beens were relentless, even in contemplating visiting his friends from SHIELD. So one night, he got on his bike with only the bare essentials, and just started riding until it got light again. As the sun was rising, he blearily noted from the road signs that he wasn't far from Great Smoky Mountains National Park. He'd never been there before, so he went into the park. He had a kind of instinct to seek out things that were different from his old life. New experiences. New perspectives. Maybe that would shake the cycles of thought that were keeping him from sleep.

The park was beautiful. Steve hiked around it for a while, finding some trails which were strenuous and not frequented so much by other visitors. He had been finding being recognized to be more painful that usual. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, and most of the time people didn't think much of him. He was struck, though, by how friendly people on the trails were. The first few times he thought it was because they recognized him and were trying to be polite, but eventually he saw them greeting each other as well. Something about the mutual interest in the outdoors, maybe? Almost everyone greeted each other as they passed on the trail. It was a pleasant feeling of belonging, kind of abstract and specific, at the same time. Was this what regular people did when they went on vacations? 

He'd spent a lot of time outdoors, but natural landscapes were usually backdrop for him – the terrain of a battlefield. He'd never really just walked around in a forest and looked at it for itself, at least, not since he was a little kid. At first he found himself making strategic observations about rocks and trees, but eventually that faded and he started to see smaller, non-tactical details. A bright yellow flower, growing next to a decaying log. A jay flapping past to land above him on a tree branch, cocking its head intelligently to watch him pass. A million little things revealed themselves to him as he walked, silently, up the valley. It was soothing.

Eventually the day wore on, the sun sank down below the horizon, and Steve saw the mountains become dim, then dark, then just a sketch against the sky. He returned to the park headquarters, and considered camping there briefly, but again the idea of the nearness of all the people seemed claustrophobic. All strangers – all from this century. Or maybe he was the stranger. So he got back on his bike. He rode west through the night, and before he knew it he was in the middle of the country, somewhere in Arkansas. He ate breakfast at a diner in the middle of nowhere where the waitress actually called him 'hon'. And he continued this way for a few days, until eventually he ended up in eastern Utah. He saw signs for Arches national park and followed them. As he was driving away from the interstate, south towards the park, he suddenly remembered having discussed national parks with someone. And in that moment, the aimless wandering of the trip found a focus. Ella had said he could come visit her. He could go see her. She was all the way in California, near San Francisco, but he was already two-thirds of the way across the country. He'd just spoken to her, only a week earlier.

Almost as soon as the thought occurred, a rush of feelings washed over him. She was good company, fun to talk to, relaxing and laid-back. And mixed in to the general desire to see her was a flash of arousal. We'd be alone together. We could... 

But the arousal was immediately mixed with guilt. He wasn't sure if it was just the reflex of the social mores of the early 20th century that he'd been raised with (which still persisted to some degree, despite Natasha's best efforts and his intermittent forays into dating and dallying), or if it was a feeling that he was betraying Peggy’s memory by enjoying someone else's company right now, when he was still so raw about her condition... and possibly developing feelings for someone else, when Peggy wasn't actually gone yet... 

Steve squelched the idea. Even if it were totally fine to go see Ella, there was no way she'd be available without any notice like this. He pushed the thought away as he arrived at the park entrance.

But the idea kept coming up, as he hiked around the park. She wasn't part of his work at SHIELD or with the Avengers. She wasn't from New York. He'd been able to talk to her about difficult things before. She frequently reminded him that there were no expectations on her side except friendship and mutual support. Even though her life experiences were quite different from his, she always listened to him and sometimes had insightful things to suggest. She was a friend. And even though he felt guilty, he found himself contemplating intimacy with her and feeling emotionally and physically warmed by it. The landscape of the park didn't help – with its pillars and rounded hills and cavernous arches. He couldn't rid himself of the idea, and eventually decided he could at least call her and ask if she was available – not really expecting that she would be.


	13. Chapter 13

Ella was on her way from proctoring the last final of the semester, so grateful that the term was finally over, when she got Steve’s call. 

She had been thinking to herself she was such a sucker for having gotten drawn into teaching when she was supposed to be doing research, but at least it was over. And there had been good reasons why she'd done it – the class was about the economics of common property resource management, and the usual instructor had been out on parental leave unexpectedly long. Most of the case material involved examples from Indigenous groups, and she knew from talking with the professor that the class typically attracted students of color. She knew how important it was for students to see people like them in positions of authority. 

Artemis had given her crap for it, just the same, when they’d chatted on the phone last month. She’d reminded Ella that just because those reasons were important didn’t mean she should let herself get roped into doing more work as a person of color, when she also had her own research and career to think about. So Ella was just glad that the obligation was over. Though she had been pleased to see how the students had responded to her; she thought in the end that it had been worth it.

The phone ringing broke Ella’s train of thought. She pulled it out, juggling an armload of papers, saw who was calling, and quickly answered.

When she said, "Hi, Steve, how are you!" and she heard silence for a while, her excitement faded almost immediately into worry.

"Steve? Are you there?"

"Hey – yeah," he said quietly. Hearing his voice reassured her a little, but still, he hadn't sounded this bad when he'd called before. And that had only been a week ago.

"Steve, are you okay?" Ella asked, a little nervous.

He sighed, seemed to be thinking, and then said after some time, "I'm... not great."

Worried now, she said, "What happened?"

He sighed again. Then he said, "I don't think I"m ready to talk about it yet." Then, a little hastily, "Oh – but – don't worry about me too much. I'm sure I'll be fine." Ella didn't believe him, but it seemed to be his way of trying to reassure her that he wasn't a danger to himself or others. They'd talked a bit about post-traumatic stress back in DC, partly because of Sam's work at the VA. Steve said he didn't often have those kinds of feelings or thoughts, but Ella had told him he should talk to someone if he did, and she'd be there for him if he needed.

"Okay," she said. Then she waited. When he didn't speak for a while, Ella looked around a bit for someplace to sit down to have this conversation, because it didn't seem like it was going to be short. She located a nearby bench in the shade and parked herself and her newly-acquired stack of exams.

Eventually, he seemed to pull himself together a bit, and he said, "So, uh... do you remember how you offered for me to stay with you?" Ella’s pulse quickened. "Yes," she said. "The offer is still good, of course."

Steve paused again. Then, at length: "I think I'd like to take you up on it." Her heart started to pound a little harder and she felt queasy flutters in her stomach. "Sure! That would be wonderful! When?" she asked.

He cleared his throat, and then said, "That's the thing... how about a few days from now?"

Ella caught her breath. "Um, sure, I think so... I mean, I have to grade all these exams, of course, but..." she was buying herself time as she thought furiously. Yes, she had to grade the exams, but then after that she was free for some time. She'd have to start doing some computer modeling before too long, but she didn't have any immediate deadlines, and she could reschedule some meetings. Normally Ella hated short notice, but given who was asking and the shape he was apparently in, she figured she should push her boundaries on spontaneity.

She must have trailed off a little mid-sentence, because he started to say, "I definitely understand if this doesn't give you enough time, it's totally fine if you can't put me up. I'm sorry to give you such short notice, but..." and then he trailed off too.

It was pretty clear to Ella that he needed someone's company. And she wanted to see him, no matter what was going on. "No, it's fine, I would really love to see you. Just let me know when you'll arrive and I'll be ready."

Steve let his breath out in a rush. Unexpected relief, Ella thought? "Okay – thank you. I mean, really, thank you. I know this is probably really inconvenient." 

"Steve, it's okay. I"m looking forward to catching up in person," Ella said. "Do you know when you'll arrive?"

He laughed a little. It sounded hollow, but real. "I'm in Moab, Utah, right now. You remember talking about national parks?" he asked.

"Yes! So you went to see some? You must be at Arches. It's beautiful." Ella said. She thought to herself, it was also one of the more erotic natural landscapes she'd seen. The rock formations were... suggestive, to say the least. The memory of that extraordinary road trip with Art back when they were still both in college came to her mind unbidden, and before Ella could shove it away, she could feel herself blushing furiously, sitting there on the bench. She was grateful Steve couldn't see her.

"Yeah, I've been hiking around it since this morning. It got kind of crowded so I went back to the hotel." Ella murmured assent. He didn't sound like he wanted much company at the moment, and she'd already noticed that he sometimes had trouble going places without being recognized. "But it is beautiful. I had no idea Utah would look this way."

Ella smiled. "Yeah, that was my reaction when I went there, too. Even when you see it in movies or pictures, that really doesn't capture what it's like to be there." Steve chuckled. "Yeah."

Steve went on, "Anyway, it's probably a three or four day ride from here to San Francisco – I wanted to see a few more things. So expect me on Thursday or Friday? I'll let you know when I know which it will be."

"Sure. That sounds great," Ella said. Her voice must have sounded a little strange, because a passerby looked at her oddly. She smiled brightly at them and then added quickly to Steve: "While you're out there, you should make sure to see Zion Canyon – it's really incredible. Worth the visit. Anyway, just let me know, but I'll be ready for you to arrive on Thursday, just in case," she finished.

"Okay," he said. "See you soon."

Queasy again, Ella answered, "Yeah, see you soon! Be safe out there."

He laughed, a little more warmly than before. "I will. Bye."

"Bye," she said. He ended the call. Ella sat there, a little in shock for a moment, and then looked down at the pile of exams. She swore softly, picked the stack up, and headed up to her office.


	14. Chapter 14

Steve did go see Zion on his way out of Utah, and it was as amazing as Ella had said. The color palette of the place – light and dark greens, pinks, oranges, and peaches – were stunning. He spent some time wondering at the idea that a small river could have cut the canyon over time and that the sandstone had stayed that way for so long. It was something even older than he was, he thought somewhat humorlessly. 

And he went to see the Grand Canyon, figuring that it was a necessary thing for any American traveling through the Southwest. When he arrived and first looked out over the edge, it was a little hard to comprehend the place, actually. Steve elected, because he'd arrived early in the morning again, to start down into the canyon as dawn was coming on. It was incredible, the way the perspective on the different parts of the cliffs changed as he descended. Things looked entirely different with only a few tens of feet of elevation change. He arrived down at the bank of the Colorado river in an hour or so. He spent some time staring at the water as it flowed past, clear and green against the red-brown walls. But eventually he started back up again. 

Even for Steve, the climb and elevation change were strenuous. He still managed it in a few hours, but he was quite exhausted when he got to the top. He found himself stopping frequently to help other people, offering the water he'd brought to many of them who hadn't planned for enough for themselves. A few he was seriously concerned would suffer heatstroke, so he tried to advise them, and in some cases offered physical support to help them up a particularly steep part of the trail, or to a shady part to rest (of which there were not many). 

It was a strangely personal way to help people – he spent most of his time rescuing groups of people from various dangerous situations, or trying to save the whole world from various threats. But this was one person at a time, or maybe two, and it was really a single helping hand or a drink of water... something quite basic and essential. Their gratitude was profound in a way that touched him deeply, and reminded him of why he had done what he'd done back in Brooklyn as 'the little guy'. No one was being bullied here, but they were frightened, tired, and sometimes helpless against the elements and their own bodies. 

Steve started to encounter more and more people as he neared the top, but found he didn't mind the crowds as much. Covered in dust and sweat, with the hat, sunglasses and a few days of stubble, he was pretty sure no one recognized him. And the other thing that struck him as he climbed higher and higher, meeting people starting partway down in midday, was that these people really were from all over the world. He heard a variety of languages and saw many different faces. And they were all here, to see this natural wonder. This thing that was one of the icons of the United States. He felt proud – maybe the people of his country hadn't made this wonder, but they had decided to set it aside, to save it, and to encourage all these visitors to enjoy it. He felt just a little bit better, at least momentarily, about being an American. It was a little vacation from the moral ambiguity he regularly ran into working with the Avengers to better the worst situations in the world.

Near the top, he encountered a person who was terrified of heights and was apparently trying to get over it by climbing down into the canyon. It wasn't working – she seemed to be paralyzed at a particularly narrow part of the trail, incapable of moving. Other passerby were talking about going for park rangers to help her climb back up, but she was mortified and kept alternating repeating that she didn't want help but that she couldn't keep going. 

Steve considered for a moment what to do – whether to help and how. After a minute of watching the other hikers trying to plead with her (to no avail) he walked up to her and took his sunglasses off, hooking them into the neck of his t-shirt, and tried to get her to look him in the eyes. He said to her, calmly, that he was going to help her get back up, back to the top. She nodded – the eye contact helped – and he took her hand. He smiled at her and she smiled tentatively, and he said, "Just put your other hand on the wall here," showing her, doing so himself. Then they started to walk back up, Steve climbing backwards and keeping her gaze, and her following with gingerly steps, looking down at her feet frequently and clutching both his hand and the wall with desperation.

It took a while to reach the top, though she hadn't been that far down, and by the time they reached their goal, there was quite a crowd gathering, along with several park rangers who had been alerted to the problem. As Steve and the hiker walked a few steps away from the last of the cliff wall, she had a moment of additional panic, and he took her free hand with his and told her to keep looking at him, and walked her back away from the edge. The rangers followed them as they moved past a stand of trees, politely asking other passerby to stay back. Steve got the hiker past the trees, and put one of her hands on a small tree's trunk. He broke eye contact to look behind her at the ranger, and said to him, "You know what to do?" The ranger nodded, and the second ranger said, "Yes, unfortunately this happens with some regularity." Steve nodded back to them. The second ranger asked, "Do you know her?" and Steve shook his head. She moved forward as the hiker suddenly sank to the ground, gripping the tree, and softly sobbing. "It's okay," she said to the hiker. "You're safe now." She looked up at Steve and the other ranger, and said, "Gary, can you go call for some backup?" The first ranger nodded, turning away and pulling out his radio to make the call.

Steve looked down at the sobbing hiker, thinking about the nature of crippling fear, and then, hearing the murmurs of the crowd (still some distance away), remembered to put his sunglasses back on. "Do I know you from somewhere?" The first ranger asked him suddenly, apparently done with his radio call. He was studying Steve's face. Steve immediately looked down and said in a slightly awkward voice, "You know, I get that a lot, but I don't think so." He quickly reached out and shook each of the rangers' hands, then turned back to the hiker and put his hand gently on her shoulder as she sat by the tree. 

Steve squatted beside her for a moment, and said softly, "You'll be all right. You were very brave." She looked up at him, and whispered somewhat indistinctly, "You saved me." He smiled down at her, and said, "No, you saved yourself. You walked out of that on your own two feet. I just gave you some help." He squeezed her shoulder softly and stood, nodding to the rangers as they moved in to tend to her. 

A moment later, the first ranger stood and turned, saying, "Sir, we'll need to get your name and information for an incident report..." and trailed off as Steve was gone, apparently without a trace. "Oh," he said, and turned back to the second ranger. She shrugged, and said, "Well, we'll just write that a good Samaritan helped out." The first ranger nodded, paused a moment, muttering, "I'm just sure I've seen him somewhere..." and eventually shook his head, going about the business of the paperwork. They certainly got a lot of visitors in the park, and saw a lot of faces. The mind could always be playing tricks on you.

An hour or two later, in the afternoon, miles away in Kingman, Arizona, Steve stopped at a hotel and checked in for the rest of the day. He realized he needed to rest for a change. He'd underestimated the effect of dehydration, he was so used to his body doing whatever he asked of it. But the physical and emotional strain of what he'd done all day at the Grand Canyon had taken their toll. He felt surprisingly good about it all... but he was tired. He showered, washing the grime of the day off; shaved for the first time in a few days. He washed his clothes in the sink at the motel, and hung them up in the bathroom to dry. 

Steve laid down on the motel bed, one arm behind his head, and his thoughts turned to California. California was frequently described as extremely beautiful. He decided then to try to make it to the Pacific coast for sunset the next day. He'd find some place to spend the night, and then arrive at Ella’s place the following day. The thought of Ella’s company was surprisingly reassuring. So, plan made, he fell sound asleep for the first time in weeks.


	15. Chapter 15

### Part Five

_  
May 21st, 2015_

_Dear Natasha,_

_I’m sorry I left without explaining why. I appreciate that you were all fine with it. The team is shaping up nicely, and I know you can lead them just as well as I can._

_You’ve probably heard by now... but Peggy’s had a stroke, and they don’t expect her to wake up again. And you know about the status with Bucky. So I figured I wouldn’t be any use to the team for a while._

_I thought you ought to at least know that I’m going to stay with a friend in California, and if you or the team need to reach me, I will absolutely be there for you. I don’t know yet how long I’ll be staying, but I have my phone with me and I’m still checking messages._

_Thanks for being such a solid friend and co-leader. It’s really great to be able to count on you._

_Best wishes,_

_Steve  
_

~*~

It was surprisingly cold, riding Interstate 40 through Arizona early the next morning. The interstate highways were impressive infrastructure – he'd heard a lot about them, but this was the first time he'd really seen them for himself, really driven them. They were well designed – they got you where you wanted to go, and quickly. And this early in the morning, there was no one else on the road. 

It felt lonely – cold and empty, tearing through as fast as he was. Of course, it would be hotter later in the day, even with the wind ripping past him as he raced down the highway. And it was always hotter wearing the damn motorcycle helmet... but Steve felt like he had to obey the laws on safety gear, to set a good example. He knew he'd recover from most motorcycle crashes, from the experience of having done so. But other people wouldn't. He knew that from experience, too. 

And he might as well not get a ticket, while he was at it. Tony might be a billionaire, but being an old soldier who still worked for the government meant Steve didn't have quite so many resources. Sometimes he thought Tony's opulent lifestyle was obscene, in the face of all the people in the world with so much less, but most of the time he just chalked it up to Tony generally being obscene. In fact, of all the outrageous things Tony did and said, having nice furniture and cars wasn't really the worst of it. And, Steve had to admit, it was sometimes nice to enjoy those things when he had the opportunity to visit. And Tony was working on a number of humanitarian projects, even aside from still moonlighting as Iron Man from time to time. So maybe he deserved a little slack.

Certainly he'd done a great job upgrading Steve's bike. He'd asked Tony to keep it simple, which Tony had miraculously done, but still, it was a thing of beauty. Steve rode a little more carefully than he might otherwise have done, actually, because he hated to hurt the thing after all the work Tony had done. It was very fuel efficient now, which was nice on the wallet but also somewhat satisfying on a more emotional level, given that he knew he was using resources to take this trip across the country, and he really didn't need to.

He tried to pull his thoughts away from that track, and failed. Didn't he need to? Steve realized he’d been managing to keep his mind off the reason he was out here in the first place. Distracted with all the new places, helping people, planning to go see Ella. He thought he’d started to feel better. And with feeling better came the thoughts that the whole thing was self-indulgent. A cross-country road trip was a luxury. It took time away from work. It took up resources that might be used for something else.

But what else? his brain asked him. What other thing was worth doing? What was the point, now that he could never talk with Peggy again? Now that she was definitely dying.

She'd been gone for a long time, he told himself. This should be no different. You really lost her when you went into the ice. And it was only her shadow that you talked with these last few years. A fading shadow, with a memory that came and went like the shade of a tree when the wind blows. That even that was gone now... shouldn't hurt so much. He tried to tell himself it didn’t hurt. But he knew that was a lie.

It was the last of that life, he said to himself. His past. The life he could have had. Bucky was... gone, or possibly worse. On a good day, he still hoped Bucky was out there, and had control of his own mind. But this wasn't a good day. 

Everyone else you knew is dead. Not to be able to talk with her, even in the condition she had been in... it was like a door had shut, finally, for good. 

His hands clenched on the grips of the handlebars. He thought to himself, For God's sake, stop thinking about this! and, distracted, failed to see an object in the road and had to swerve to miss it. He had to swerve badly enough that he spun out a little, and he pulled over to the side of the road. He ripped the helmet off and tossed it on the ground, full of anger and frustration at himself. Why can't I move on?!

Steve stood for a few minutes, breathing heavily. Feeling the grief starting to come that he’d been trying to hold at bay, that he’d been literally trying to drive away from. Ella was a comfort, even the thought of her was a comfort, but what seemed to come with that was then letting the grief catch up with him. The anger of a moment ago was fading, leaving the deep sadness behind.

But now still wasn’t the time. Steve searched for a way to shove the sadness away, and what came to him was the memory of all the people coming and going into and out of the Grand Canyon. He thought about the incredible beauty of the natural world and the potential of the human race to help each other. He thought about his losses, and then about the people who still needed him. Suddenly, though the loss was still there, it was slightly more bearable. Did he need to do this road trip? Maybe yes.

He sighed and kicked the bike's stand down, leaning it to park it momentarily as he threw his leg over and went to pick up his helmet. He looked back at the road to see what the object had been that had caused him to swerve. There wasn't anything there, but as he scanned the horizon, he saw a coyote running away in the distance. "Huh." He paused, watching it run until he couldn't see it anymore. "Lonely too?" he asked it rhetorically. Then, with a shrug, he put the helmet back on, straddled the bike, and kicked off to get himself to California.


	16. Chapter 16

In the several days between Steve's call and his arrival, Ella was a whirlwind of activity. She'd never really used that term to describe herself before, but in this case it seemed appropriate. She cleaned her little studio apartment – small though it was, it was still filthy. She was always busy with work and never seemed to find the time to vacuum or clean out the shower. In a way, it was nice to have the excuse. But the obsessive way in which she did these tasks was definitely a sign that she was bleeding off nervous energy.

Ella rearranged some meetings for the following week, not knowing how long he would stay. Eventually she would have to do some work, but she figured at least that she could take a week off. She said that she had a friend from out of town visiting and their plans had changed so they were arriving earlier than expected, carefully keeping it gender neutral when she mentioned it to her colleagues. She didn't want any assumptions being made.

Ella burned through grading the pile of final exams as fast as she could, while still trying to be fair. Several times she had to go back and re-grade a few questions when she realized her attention was slipping. She worked through the cumulative grades from the students’ work on their assignments throughout the term, and even amidst her anxious excitement about her incoming guest, she was pleased all over again by how well her students had performed. They’d really gotten the key points she’d been hoping they’d learn, and a few of the students who had been in danger of failing had pulled off passing grades after she’d reached out to them individually.

See, Ella thought. This is why Artemis tells you to avoid this sort of thing, because of how much work it ends up being... but this is where she could make a difference for the students. She knew the signs of someone who had personal stuff going on, or who was unfamiliar with academic life because they were the first in their family to go to college. She knew they needed someone to reach out to them. And it had paid off. She sighed in satisfaction as she entered the final grades, and then again in relief as she clicked the "submit" button in the school’s administrative system.

On Thursday, Steve sent Ella a text message that he'd arrived in Santa Barbara and would be at her place on Friday. She sent back something minimal about looking forward to seeing him, and then, exhausted, she sat down in her comfy chair.

For a moment, she just surveyed the apartment. The small kitchen, with a few more days of food in it (she hadn't wanted to go and get more food because she didn't know what Steve liked to eat). The pile of pillows on the floor that was usually her couch, but she had arranged against the wall so there was somewhere for Steve to sleep. She'd moved the coffee table away from them to give him more room. Her bed, with clean sheets and the blankets folded at its foot. It had been warm lately so she'd been sleeping just under the sheets. 

Ella flushed, thinking about the fact that she'd have to wear something to sleep in for a change while he was visiting... and then thinking that maybe she *wouldn't* have to. She chided herself for that thought. Who knew if he was still interested? Ella reminded herself again that he sounded like he was in some kind of emotional trouble and that was not a good time to go looking for sex, and that her first responsibility was to figure out how to be the best friend to him she could be, in whatever way seemed right.

Still, there was a little thought that followed that one: and if the right way to help involves hot, sweaty lovemaking, that's fine too...

Ella stood up, trying to shake the stirring feelings of arousal. She walked into the bathroom and checked for the hundredth time that she had cleaned everything and had extra soap and toilet paper and other things you might want for a guest. Just in case, though, she did check that she had condoms and lube. Back in New York, she’d still been on oral contraceptives even though it had been quite some time since the breakup with Ethan. And since that night with Steve in New York, she hadn’t been all that active or interested in relationships. She’d gotten off the birth control and hadn’t had much need for new supplies. So she was glad to see that the condoms weren’t expired.

Eventually Ella decided to try to take a shower, and shave her legs. She didn't often do so (she worked at home so much in the summer that there wasn't often reason to), but this seemed like a good time. It was too warm to wear long pants and she was suddenly self-conscious. Normally by herself in her little studio apartment it didn't matter so much how furry her legs were. 

As Ella soaped herself up and shaved her legs, her thoughts strayed back to Arches National Park. That had been a crazy trip. She and Artemis had decided to drive around Utah to see some of the sights. It was back when Art was in college at the University of Southern California, in the film program, and Ella was in college in Santa Barbara, about two hours' drive from USC. Both Ella and Art had always loved the outdoors, had gone hiking a lot as kids together. And... back in high school, there'd always been some ambiguity then about each of their sexual preferences, but they'd never done anything about it. They'd since dated several different guys, and at the time of the trip had each recently broken up with someone. It had been a kind of 'girl power' trip which had originated from an exasperated phone call right after Ella had been dumped. Neither of them had cars, but as Ella recounted to Artemis her frustrations with her now-former boyfriend, they formulated a plan to go on a road trip together. 

Ella rented a car, and drove down to pick Art up, and they headed out along Interstate 40, stopping in the Mojave desert for a short hike, and eventually traveling to the Grand Canyon, to Zion, to a few other spots like Glen Canyon and Grand Staircase-Escalante, and eventually to Arches. A lot of the smaller parks had mixed together in Ella’s memory, but those stood out. They’d hiked around Arches all day, longer than they'd been at the other parks because the place was smaller, they'd gotten there earlier in the day, and the elevation wasn't as challenging as it had been at the Grand Canyon. They started by hiking to the famous Delicate Arch (featured on Utah's license plates), and then around some of the other remarkable features at the eastern side of the park – the windows, and the double arch. 

But as they had driven in, the eroticism of the landscape had already started to infiltrate Ella’s thoughts. There were many stone pillars which were incredibly phallic – not just tall and straight and about the right ratio of length to diameter to look penis-like, but because of the erosion patterns, they often even had shapes like the head of a penis. Ella made a comment to Artemis about it, and she laughed, and it became a running joke. But there came a point where they had to reapply sunscreen to each other, and as Ella rubbed the lotion into Artemis’ skin, on her back and shoulders where she couldn't get to it herself, Ella started to feel really turned on. 

At first she thought it was just her, but then as they drove and hiked around the place, Art started to make comments about the rock formations, too, pointing out things Ella hadn't noticed. In particular, as they drove around two round hills, Art said, "Hey, look, we have some female body parts here too!" They laughed, and then Art said, "I would sure love to give those a squeeze." Ella laughed a little uncomfortably, and tried to focus on driving. Later, when they got to the double arch, and climbed up into the echoing space below it, they made funny sounds to hear the echoes, and then Art beckoned Ella and climbed up out of sight of the rest of the visitors below, behind a ripple in the rock.

Art held out the sunscreen bottle and then took off her whole shirt. Ella felt tingling in her vulva, and even in the heat, felt her nipples push a little against her shirt. She must have seen Artemis topless many times at various points, but in the context of the trip and the landscape and the heat... Ella looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then cleared her throat, opened the bottle, squeezed out some lotion, and started to apply it to Art’s back and shoulders. Ella tried not to look at her breasts, which were smaller and rounder than hers, and instead tried to listen to the cacophony of voices below. She heard fragments of phrases in different languages, most of which she couldn't make out. It was delightful and surreal.

Art looked over her shoulder at Ella, and said, "You're awfully quiet. That's not typical of you." Ella laughed awkwardly and said, "Well, all these erotic rocks are kind of having an effect on me. You taking your shirt of isn't helping either." Art laughed, and responded, "I know the feeling." Ella’s heart started to pound a little. Suddenly the sexual ambiguity of her relationship with her best friend became a little exciting and a little frightening. She was painfully aware of the fact that they were both free agents at the moment, and there was nothing stopping them from exploring the ambiguity a bit.

She had apparently been rubbing the same spot for a too long, because Art shifted under Ella’s hands and she found herself rubbing Art’s chest. Ella looked her in the eyes in alarm, but was surprised to see desire there, and a wide smile. Art had always been more assertive than Ella was, and that was why she was only a little surprised to feel Art take Ella’s hand, greasy with sunscreen, and slide it down to her breast. 

Ella had never felt someone else's breast before. Art’s were pretty firm, but the texture was so soft, and smooth, and delightfully pliable. Ella decided that Art wanted her to play with it, or else she wouldn't have put Ella’s hand there. So she did, and Art made a little sound of pleasure. It was incredibly erotic. Ella felt her nipples stiffen completely, pointing erect even through her hiking shirt. Art chuckled a little and reached forward to them, then looked up at Ella with a question in her eyes. 

Art said softly, "Is this okay? Can we do this?" Ella looked at her, overwhelmed with desire and the fear of what this might do to their relationship, but the desire won out, and the deep love Ella had felt for her for all the years of their friendship, which even in that moment she had faith in to weather a lot of challenges. 

So Ella nodded to Art and said, "Why don't we try and see?" Artemis’ hand closed around Ella’s breast and Ella’s body went wild. Art squeezed gently and Ella felt a spurt of wetness between her legs that wasn't sweat. She palmed Ella’s breast, and as the nipple pushed into her hand, Ella moaned. Suddenly Ella remembered where they were, and looked around to see if anyone could see them. Art laughed and said, "No one can see us here. But... maybe we should go to the hotel?" Ella nodded, and added, "We've already hiked all day... perfectly good time to go back."

They packed up their bags, Art put her shirt back on, and they piled into the car and drove down to Moab. As they stood at the desk of the hotel waiting to check in, Art’s arm touched hers and Ella felt a fresh spurt of lubrication ooze out of her and into her underwear, and then felt it start to inch a little ways down her leg. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so wet. They checked in, and went to the room, and threw things on one of the beds, and then sat down together on the other bed.

Ella swallowed hard and said, "I've never done this with a girl." Art smiled and said, "Neither have I. But it's all friction, right?" Ella nodded. Art took her shirt off again, and this time Ella followed suit. Art undid Ella’s bra, letting her breasts fall down slightly. They were very large, and somewhat pendulous, but as Art pushed Ella back and she laid on the bed, they pooled attractively on top of her. Ella hadn't thought about how the angle changed how breasts looked, but she started to feel turned on by her own body in a way she hadn't been before. Art started squeezing Ella’s breasts again, and this time Ella moaned as loud as she felt like. It was still early in the evening and people didn't seem to be in their rooms, and Ella found she really didn't care anyway. She reached up to squeeze Art’s breast at the same time as she squeezed Ella’s, and as Art’s thumb found Ella’s nipple and massaged, and then flicked, Ella arched her back. She thought distractedly of the Arches, but then Artemis was undoing her pants and pulling them down, underwear too. Ella fumbled with her own pants and eventually kicked them off on the floor, followed by her underwear. Then Ella gazed over at Art’s vulva, seeing that she was plenty moist too, and thought, no, that's what the arches look like. Ella reached forward for her and slid her hand along Artemis’ moistness, felt her tighten against Ella’s fingers as Artemis bit her lip and sighed.

Ella knew what she liked, when it came to stimulation. But she didn't know what Art liked. So she started with what she knew: she used a finger to stroke slightly inside. Artemis moaned and leaned down to Ella, hands on either side of her head, and dropped her mouth onto Ella’s. Kissing a woman was... all silk, all saliva, smooth and exciting and familiar-unfamiliar all at once. Ella tentatively poked her finger a little way inside Artemis, and felt her muscles clench. They both moaned. Ella thrust her finger in further, slowly, gradually, and then found the firm shape of Art’s clitoris with her thumb. Ella stroked with the side of her thumb, and pressed inwards with her finger, and Artemis moaned louder, in turn thrusting her tongue into Ella’s mouth. Ella reached up with her other hand and cupped Art’s breast, flicking her nipple the way she had flicked Ella’s. Artemis dragged her mouth away from Ella’s and shifted her body around, eventually getting to an angle where Ella could keep her fingers inside Art and she could reach down for Ella’s breast with her hand and squeeze. Ella stroked harder, and felt Artemis’ vulva swell, and then she cried out and Ella felt her vagina grip her finger tightly as she came. 

Ella was so hot at this point that she could barely wait for Artemis to recover, but when she opened her eyes again, Ella said, "Can you?" and shifted Art until she was laying on her side, then took her hand and moved it in the direction of her own vulva. Art looked a little nervous -- uncharacteristic for her -- but Ella said, "I'll show you how it works for me." Art nodded, and Ella took Art’s hand and placed it on her vulva, cupping it and herself at the same time. Ella moaned, feeling how wet she was. She slowly pressed with her middle finger over Artemis’ middle finger, guiding it inside her and feeling the shudders of pleasure creep across her skin as they penetrated. Artemis looked less nervous and more hungry, now, and Ella started to squeeze Art’s hand and her vulva rhythmically, getting herself closer and closer to orgasm. Ella had closed her eyes so she didn't see Artemis prop herself up on her other arm and lean over to Ella’s breast. But as Art set her mouth on Ella’s nipple and started to suck and tease with her tongue, Ella forgot everything and came all at once. She took her hand away from Art’s but Art kept squeezing as Ella finished. Then they lay there for a moment, breathing heavily.

Eventually Ella said, "Well, I guess it does help to play for the same team, huh?" And Art laughed. She said, again uncharacteristically tentatively for her, "Um, can I have another? I usually have a few, when I'm doing it myself." Ella was surprised, but nodded, and reached for her, and as she sank her fingers into Art, Ella felt her start to spasm immediately. Wow, Ella thought. She hadn't really considered how many to have.

And as Art came, Ella felt herself lose it again, too. She grabbed Art’s breast with her free hand and they both squeezed each other as they came at the same time, moaning and crying out and spasming. The rest of the afternoon was muddled in Ella’s memory, but she remembered dimly that they just kept at it, and she lost count of the number of orgasms she had. They took breaks, stopping to talk idly of nothing in particular, or to snack on hiking food they still had with them. But inevitably, hands kept straying to breasts and vulvas, and it became a kind of challenge or contest to see how quickly they could stroke each other to climax. Finally, at the end of the day, they fell asleep, exhausted.

The next day they drove home. It was a long car ride. It was a little awkward at first, getting up, seeing each other again in the morning, and riding in the car. They seemed to have regained some sense of prudishness, and avoided being naked in front of each other. Finally, as they talked about the trip and what was next when they went back to school, Ella said, "Look... that was wonderful. I mean, really nice. Better than I usually have with a guy." Artemis nodded, smirked a little, and added, "Yeah, I know what you mean." 

Ella continued, "But I want you to know that whatever we decide to do about this, you're still my best friend. That's the most important thing." Art nodded, and said, "I feel the same way." She was definitely pensive, but seemed sincere, which was a relief. The situation had been so unusual for them... and Ella didn't want to mess up her relationship with her best friend. No matter *how* good it had felt at the time.

They drove on in silence for a while. Eventually Ella said, "Why don't we go back to our respective lives and talk on the phone, and see what happens, okay?" And Artemis nodded again, silent. 

And that was the last thing either of them ever directly said to each other about the experience. They went home, they talked on the phone. But then Artemis met a new guy who she fell hard for – Andy, in fact – and though Ella was disappointed, it wasn't long after that that she’d met someone new, herself. It became something she and Art referred to as an enormous inside joke – that trip to Utah.

As Ella showered the soap off of herself, and checked her legs for stray patches that still needed shaving, she remembered what it had felt like to run her hands down Artemis’ legs, and found herself needing to turn the shower-head onto pulse and started fondling her own breasts. She'd learned a lot about her own body back then, things that she still used in order to maximize her own pleasure. Which she proceeded to do.

Eventually Ella got out of the shower and got dressed. By then it was evening. She made a small dinner and ate it and then laid down in bed and tried to sleep until morning. Steve would be here tomorrow. She did her best to wait.


	17. Chapter 17

The next morning, Ella was woken sometime after 10 am from a restless sleep (which had just turned into actual sleeping) by the sound of a motorcycle. She sat up with a start, heart pounding. She heard the engine stop and jumped out of bed, running for the closet to find clothes to throw on quickly. She picked a cool summer dress – something she hadn't worn in a long time, but it was quick to put on, looked pretty good, and wasn't too warm. As she was tugging it over her head, she heard a knock at the door. "Be right there!" Ella called.

Straightening the dress and smoothing back rumpled hair, she opened the door. And there he was. 

Ella had forgotten how tall he was, but as Steve stood framed by her door, it occurred to her to wonder what it was like to spend most of your life short and then to suddenly be tall. Had he run into things? 

The thought fled her mind as he smiled a little uncertainly. "Hi," she said awkwardly. "Hi," he said back. A moment passed where Ella just couldn't get over the fact that he was here – he was actually here, in her real life, right now. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, "May I come in?" 

"Oh! Oh, of course!" Ella said, flustered. She swung the door open wide, hanging onto it to stay grounded. Steve walked in, duffel slung over a shoulder. As he passed Ella, she saw the bike parked outside, and felt a queasy flip-flop in her stomach. She closed the door, and said, "The bike is beautiful."

Steve put his duffel down to the side of the door and turned to her, catching her conflicted expression. "But?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ella hesitated, then said slowly, "Well... a friend of mine died in a motorcycle accident." He started to say something like "I'm sorry" but her nervousness got the better of her and she verbally barrelled right through. "I mean, I know you do this kind of thing for a living, right? So I know you must be safe on a bike, and it really is a very nice-looking piece of machinery, and you know, I know they can be really fuel efficient..." and eventually after a bit she stopped, awkwardly.

Steve laughed a little at her burst of nervous speech, and said, "Actually, Tony fixed it up for me. It gets 150 miles to the gallon – I think more on this trip, too, because it's all highway driving." Ella forgot her awkwardness for a moment and said, "Wow, that's amazing! How did he do it?" immediately trying to work out how it was possible to make a two-cycle engine that more efficient... or maybe it was more about how clean the exhaust was? She tried to rack her brains for long-ago automotive knowledge. She'd worked in a shop over a couple of summers at the end of high school, but her knowledge on that was pretty patchy at this point.

Steve shook his head. "I know a little bit of how engines work, but not that much. Not at the Tony Stark level." They both chuckled a little. “Actually, Tony offered to make it even more efficient – put his arc reactor tech in, make it lighter... but I kinda like the feeling of a combustion engine. Old-fashioned, I guess?” He smiled sheepishly. “So that’s what he did. Made it more efficient, but kept the tech... familiar.” Ella smiled back at him.

There was a moment where they both stood there, unsure what to do. Then Ella said, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," he said. She motioned for him to sit down in one of her two chairs. She had a little glass coffee table that served as a place to sit at, but she spent most of her time sitting on the floor at her coffee table to eat or work or watch movies. Ella was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that she didn't have real furniture like a couch or a dining table. Steve, however, sat graciously in the chair she offered as she went into the kitchen. He still looked a little uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure what to do about that.

"I, uh, I only have tea and water at the moment," Ella said lamely. "Water is fine," he said, smiling at her. She got out a glass and filled it from the tap and brought it over to him. He took it. "Thanks."

Ella filled one for herself and sat across the small glass table from him. She said, "I didn't know how long you would stay, and I didn't know what you would like to eat, so I thought we could go get food and stuff after you got here." Steve nodded.

They sat there for a while quietly. Ella sipped her water. Silence always drove her crazy, but she couldn't think of what to say. Eventually, she hit on: "How was the rest of your trip here?"

Steve leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees, rolling the glass between his hands. "It's a beautiful ride – beautiful country, through the Southwest." "Yeah," Ella agreed.

He went on. "I did stop at Zion, like you suggested. It was really something." She nodded and smiled. "And I stopped at the Grand Canyon. Did you say you'd been?"

Ella nodded again, pinking up slightly as she thought of the circumstances of her last visit there. "Yeah, my friend Art and I stopped there on our Southwest road trip." She cleared her throat. "But when we got to the Grand Canyon, I wasn't up to hiking all the way down, so we just went down a little ways. I'll bet you are in good enough shape to do it, though – did you hike down into the canyon?" Ella had smirked a bit when she said he was in good shape, and then worried that she'd overstepped some boundary about pointing out things about his body and his unusual abilities.

Steve smiled, though, and said, "Yeah, I did make it down to the river and back up." He leaned back again in the chair. "You know, there are a lot of people who try that hike who really aren't prepared." He considered a moment, looking out Ella’s window at the tree outside. "I think I wasn't even quite prepared. I was pretty tired afterwards – pretty dehydrated."

"Yeah," Ella said. "Art and I got pretty dehydrated even just hiking down a bit and then back up." She thought for a moment and then asked, "Was anyone you met in real trouble?"

Steve paused before answering. "Yes, there was one person who had a fear of heights – she was really stuck at a narrow part of the trail, and pretty frantic. I helped her climb back up. But that was near the top... most of the people I was really worried about were further down. I gave them some of my water and sometimes a hand getting to shade, but... well, I hope they made it back okay." A furrow appeared between his eyebrows, and he looked both handsome and concerned at the same time. Ella thought to herself, well, that's why you were dehydrated, then – you gave up all your water supplies to others. Typical heroism... sacrificing your own well-being for others. There were benefits and drawbacks of being Captain America, she decided.

But what she said was, "I guess you're more used to saving people from bad guys, right?" Steve laughed and the furrow unfurrowed. Ella thought that he seemed to have become a bit more comfortable as the easy flow of conversation between them naturally asserted itself. There was a reason, after all, that he’d reached out to her. This back-and-forth had always been comfortable between them. "Yeah. It's not so clear how to help people against the elements and their own lack of preparation."

A few more moments went by. Eventually he said, "California is really beautiful." He was looking right at Ella, and her heart jumped a bit. Silly. He's not talking about you. California is really beautiful, you know that.

Ella gulped at her water to cover her reaction. She swallowed and said, "Yeah. It's one reason I don't ever want to leave. Though, it's really also because my family is all here." Steve nodded. Then Ella asked, "What route did you take from the Grand Canyon to here?"

"Well, I came in south of the Mojave, on Interstate 40," she nodded, "And then I kind of avoided L.A." He sounded apologetic. "But I ended up winding around and getting to the ocean in Ventura, and then took highway 1 all the way up."

Ella nodded again. "Yeah, that's a beautiful drive. I've never gone the whole way on highway 1, but I used to live in Santa Barbara. Really wonderful place to live, though I still like the Bay Area better."

"Why?" he asked.

Ella thought for a moment, setting her now-empty glass down on the table with a clank. "Well, though Santa Barbara is beautiful, it's pretty isolated. If you want to get to a larger population center, you have to drive for a few hours, and then you get to L.A. Which – to be fair – I did eventually come to like, when I lived down there. But let's just say I would rather drive to San Francisco or Berkeley." Steve nodded.

Then Ella said, "But I do miss seeing the ocean every day from the bus." She paused for a moment, far away. "I love the ocean. There's something so endless about it, in a really calming way." He didn't say anything, and Ella looked over and saw him frowning again. "Sorry – did I say something wrong?"

Steve immediately cracked a smile, though it looked a little forced. "No, no. I just... as a kid I used to go to the beach on Long Island some weekends, when my mom was still alive." "That's nice," she said lamely. He paused, and Ella waited. "But I still sometimes see the vastness of the ocean and it reminds me of..." he paused again, even longer this time; his turn to look far away. "Uh, nothing," he said, finally. 

Ella didn't know what to say. Actually, taken literally, it was a profound statement. But she figured he just didn't feel like voicing whatever he was actually thinking about. She stood up and put her glass in the sink, and turned to see him gulp down the rest of his water and hold out the glass to her. "Would you like some more?" she asked.

"Not right now, thanks," he said. Ella nodded and took the glass from him, trying to ignore the little thrill she got from accidentally brushing his fingers with hers, and put his glass in the sink too. She sat down across from him again. She really wasn't sure what to do. Here he was, and he didn't seem to be suggesting they do anything, and there was a limit to the small talk they could exchange. He'd sounded pretty bad when he'd called her, but he didn't sound so bad now. And she didn't do well with just sitting around not talking or doing anything. 

Eventually she hit on, "Hey, would you like to go out for lunch? There's a pretty good Vietnamese place a few blocks away – I've been working so hard lately, it would be good to get out and stretch my legs a bit. We can talk about what kind of food to get to eat later in the week – there's a farmer's market tomorrow so we can go shopping for food then."

Steve smiled. "Sure." "Oh," Ella said suddenly, "I usually cook vegetarian. Is that okay with you?" He nodded, but then said, "I'm not really used to not having meat and eggs, you know, but I can try it for a bit."

"Oh, I’m not vegan," Ella said. "I'm just vegetarian. I do eat eggs and cheese and other dairy products. But I also eat a lot of beans, some tofu, you know. Lentils... quinoa and other kinds of grains," he raised his eyebrows at 'quinoa' but she figured she'd just cook it for him and he'd see.

"I've got to warn you," Steve said, smiling ruefully, "I'm not a very good cook." Ella laughed, and responded, "It's okay. I'll show you some of the things I know. I don't cook anything complicated, usually. You never know, you might learn something."

"Okay," he said, laughing. Ella looked at him, and tried to gauge how he was doing. He seemed pretty much okay at the moment; she waffled a little, and then decided not to ask about what had brought him here; not yet. She knew intellectually that she needed to let him bring it up in his own time – just as a good principle of support, and especially knowing how quiet and internal he had been when she'd talked with him in the past. It had taken time for him to open up, to share personal things with her. And it was a bit different, having him here, than when he had called her to talk. When he called, it was because he definitely wanted to talk. Now, it wasn't so easy just to ask. Ella did feel a burning curiosity about what was bothering him, and was eager for their old easy way of talking about important things, not just small talk. She knew better, though, so she restrained the urge to ask. 

"Shall we go check out the Vietnamese place?" Ella asked brightly. "I haven't had breakfast yet, and it's getting kind of close to an early lunch now."

"Sure," Steve said. They stood up, and Ella found her shoes and sun hat and a light long-sleeved shirt to keep the sun off her as they walked. She grabbed her keys and wallet and stashed them in the ample but disguised pockets of her dress (one of its best features, in her opinion), and they headed outside and off to lunch. Steve remained mostly quiet as they walked through the neighborhood, apparently observing peoples' gardens and the little park with the stand of tall redwoods they crossed through on our way to the restaurant. Ella managed to let him be.

Lunch was quiet, too; they talked about little things. How long she'd lived in the studio apartment; about the owners, who lived upstairs in the main house; whether there were other good restaurants around. They did discuss what to do over the next few days, and arrived at a plan of going to the farmer's market the next day and getting a bunch of food and then cooking it up with the intention of having leftovers. And then on Sunday they'd go to San Francisco and walk the Embarcadero. Ella had reminded him about Ghiradelli. That had brought a smile to his face. He'd said it was famous even in his day; and then, like a cloud passing over the sun, his mood darkened again. Just the same, they planned to go see it and eat chocolate.

That evening they got pizza delivered and played cards. Steve taught Ella a few games he'd learned in the Army, and she tried not to mention the racy deck of cards Tony had given him which had started them onto some interesting topics, back when. Ella’s deck of cards had a picture of a waterfall on the back and nothing special on the front. She'd had them since she was a child.

She tried to interest him in a crossword-like game with letter tiles, but Steve said he was getting tired. She thought maybe he just didn't like crosswords, but didn't press it. He could easily actually be tired from all the travel and hiking.

"So..." Ella began as he shuffled the cards and tapped them square. Steve looked at her expectantly, eyebrows raised, as he slid the cards into their box. "I remembered you said you sometimes sleep on the floor anyway..." Steve nodded, and Ella continued: "Since I don't have a guest bed, I just put all the pillows and blankets here in a pile for you to arrange however you want. I have some sheets here, too, if you like." 

Steve smiled and said, "Thanks, that will be great." It was sincere.

"If it's not comfortable enough or your back starts to hurt or anything, you can sleep in my bed," Ella felt her cheeks redden, "and I'll sleep on the floor," she finished quickly. "I also have camping mattresses. Actually, do you want a camping mattress?" She was going on again, wasn't she.

He laughed. "No, I'll try the pillows tonight. I'll let you know if I need anything else." Ella’s mind wavered hopefully for a moment on what else he might need that she could provide, but she didn't say anything and the moment passed. Probably didn't mean anything by it, anyway.

With that, Steve excused himself and went to the bathroom, apparently brushing teeth or something along those lines. Ella waited nervously for him to come back out. She almost changed into her pyjamas while she was waiting, but kept thinking he'd walk out in the middle of it, and even though they'd been intimate before and had technically seen each other naked, she just didn't know where they stood, so that would be awkward.

Steve emerged from the bathroom wearing light grey sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt. He really did look good in anything, but the clothes were particularly tight and left little to the imagination. Ella reddened a bit and nodded to him as she passed him on her way into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, changed into her less revealing set of pyjamas – long flannel pants and a matching flannel button down shirt, with a camisole underneath, so no cleavage showing. The pyjamas were sky blue with little white clouds on them. She'd been embarrassed when her mother had given them to her as a birthday present, but now they seemed appropriate. Comfortable, and conservative, especially with another layer underneath. 

Ella still felt nervous, though she was pretty sure nothing was going to happen. What if she snored? What if he snored? 

She came back out of the bathroom to find Steve already set up on a neatly arranged pile of pillows which he'd clearly adjusted while she was out of the room. He smiled and said, "This'll be great." Ella smiled back, said awkwardly, "Well, good night!" "Good night," he responded. Ella climbed into bed, leaving her glasses on her bedside table. Then she lay there for a while, uncomfortable. She always had trouble falling asleep anyway, and having him here was making it especially hard.

But after a while, she started to drift off. She got to the point where your faculties aren't all intact, but you aren't actually asleep yet, and said sleepily, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he murmured from across the room, apparently also mostly asleep.

"I'm glad you're here."

Ella heard him shift on the pillows. But then he said, "Me, too."

And then she was asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

### Part Six

_  
May 23, 2015_

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Sorry for the short notice, but I have just had a bunch of work come up. I don’t think I’ll be able to make Monday night dinners for a while... I’m not sure how long, yet, but I’ll keep you posted._

_I just wanted to make sure you knew everything was okay and I’ll just be unavailable for a while! You know how much I love you, and I’ll miss seeing you. Say hi to Grandma for me._

_Love,_

_Ella  
_

~*~

Steve stood, leaning on the railing of the pier and looking out at the bay. It was windy, and salty, and cool. He looked out at the opposite side of the water, far in the distance, and located some of the buildings Ella had pointed out to him as they'd walked up the Embarcadero earlier that day. The university buildings were particularly visible, even at a distance (especially the bell tower), but she'd also showed him how to find approximately where she lived. He found his eyes traveling over the landmarks she'd just taught him, testing his recall. A habit, he thought. Something that was important in his usual line of work. Strange, really, not to be on duty. Even stranger not to have thought of it for a while. Natasha hadn't sent him any messages, so he knew the team was still giving him space. He hoped they hadn't got into anything they really needed him for, but also felt like he still needed a bit more time on his own. He felt better, yes, but he still kept thinking of everything he'd lost, everyone he'd lost... he could tell he still didn't have enough focus. He was still too much of a liability to be a reliable team member.

Steve wondered again for a moment if he was being too self-indulgent. A good soldier doesn't let their personal life get in the way of their service. They can keep that to themselves, right? But... he wasn't a soldier anymore. Or he was. Well, nothing was that clear-cut anymore. At any rate, there was so much more judgment he had to use in his work now, so much more evaluation. He was more of a secret agent or special ops person now. He didn't just follow orders. And so he had to keep more of himself engaged in what he was doing in order to do a good job, and... it just opened the door for things like this to distract and cripple him. And there wasn't the focus of the war, anymore.

He sighed, and looked to the right. There, much closer than the other shore of the bay, was Treasure Island. Apparently it wasn't a naval base anymore, but he'd heard of the electronics school that had been there during the war. Rising out of Treasure Island's rocky companion, Yerba Buena island, was the west span of the Bay Bridge. It was graceful and modern, and reminded him of the Verrazano bridge, but a little more intricate, with crosspieces on the pylons. The Verrazano had been new to him since he'd been reawakened, but he was surprised to learn that the Bay Bridge had been built in the 30s. He'd obviously never concerned himself much with the architecture of public works on the other side of the country. He did find himself hoping that he'd get a chance to see the Golden Gate Bridge in person while he was here, though. It was famous enough to show up in lots of cultural references even when he had been young. Still, the Bay Bridge was an attractive piece of infrastructure. Of course, nothing really held a candle to the Brooklyn bridge. And at least it hadn't changed *so* much over the years... unlike other things. Steve shook his head. Thinking of home too much, he tried to focus on the present.

Ella had gone into the Ferry Building to buy a few things. They'd walked through it before, earlier this morning, on their way in. It was beautiful inside – light and open. The shops were all very high-end, though. He privately wondered how much money she was spending on 'a few things.' Like him, she didn't have a lucrative career, and she didn't have the fringe benefits that came with friends like Tony. But Ella seemed determined to show him all that the Bay Area had to offer, and to share the things that she loved with him. Fortunately she didn't seem to have very expensive tastes, at least other than the Ferry Building market. And her enthusiasm was endearing and a bit infectious. He couldn't deny that he was feeling pretty good about life at the moment, for the most part.

Yesterday when they'd walked down to the Farmer's Market in her neighborhood, Ella had talked about not owning a car, and trying to live simply, and trying to eat healthy and support local growers. She'd said that's why she loved farmer's markets. It was almost idyllic – a kind of fantasy for him, to imagine living this way, to play at it with her while he was here. 

"People are so divorced from where their food comes from," Ella had said. "I like to look the people in the face who grow the food or raise the food, and thank them directly." And actually the prices at the Farmer's Market weren't that high. Ella admitted later on the way back from the market that it meant sometimes she didn't eat very healthfully when she didn't have time to go to the Farmer's Market. "I make the excuse that I'll go get food from the market soon, so I'll just eat mac and cheese or fast food for a couple of days, and then I get busy and it becomes a couple of weeks." But she emphasized the attempt to try to live simply and healthfully. And it was all about trying, right? Working toward an ideal.

And there was something deeply pleasing about cooking with her. It wasn't something Steve usually enjoyed. He'd had to cook for himself most of his life, even when his mother was alive, because she worked so much. But cooking was always a chore. When he'd gone to Bucky's family's house for dinner and they'd all be helping out in the kitchen – it was a foreign thing. Like lots of things about that family, he usually felt like he was on the outside, looking in. Not with Bucky himself, of course. Just when it was the whole family. He loved them all... had loved them all. But he always felt like a visitor, no matter how many times they told him he was like family. Steve still felt the little stab of grief and anger when he thought of what had happened in DC with Bucky, and the fact that he was still out there somewhere, but it passed more quickly than usual.

Cooking yesterday had been... fun, he thought to himself. Ella had handed him a cutting board and knife and passed him some vegetables to chop. She told him to cut them in disks, which wasn't hard to do. Zucchini, carrots, mushrooms, green beans. Steve worked away at the vegetables, putting the chopped ones into a bowl. He tested a few; the carrots were crisp and sweet, fresh from the farmer's market. Ella, meanwhile, was chopping onions at the other counter. It was a small kitchen, but she seemed to know how to arrange him so that he could chop in one place and she could chop in another. They talked about foods, what things they liked and didn't like. Why Ella was vegetarian and when she made exceptions, which was reasonably frequently.

"There are just some things my parents and grandparents make that are comfort food. Like chicken and dumplings and potatoes. Also I have lots of memories of making that with my dad." She stopped for a moment and looked fondly into the distance, smiling. "But also I don't want to seriously inconvenience people when I'm a guest... though I do sometimes try to take the opportunity to educate a little. You know, like 'chicken stock makes it not vegetarian' and stuff like that."

"You, take an opportunity to educate?" Steve had asked, teasing. Ella had flushed attractively, and stammered a bit. He’d been realizing that she was fetching when she was disarmed. Eventually she recovered: "Well, in the end, I don't want to be unable to digest meat, but animals are so poorly treated in the U.S.... I mean, there's nothing wrong with things eating other things to survive. We all have to do it, it's part of the ecology of the world. But you don't need to mistreat the things you're eating." Steve had nodded, and agreed. "I see your point. I don't think I can give it up, but I'll at least try to pay more attention to it." 

Ella had gone on to talk about the issues of food security, and how people were starting to talk about it as food sovereignty. People have the right to know where their food is coming from, that they will have enough, and that it will be healthy. She talked about her coworkers at the university studying food justice, and the ideas that there were places even nearby in Oakland where people couldn't get to stores where there was healthy food, and mostly ate things from convenience stores. Steve hadn't thought about it that way – that injustice would get down to the level of things as basic as food, and in a place as well-off as California.

"It's part of why it was so exciting to work with the farmers in Borneo." Ella scooped up the onions, which she'd finished chopping, and dumped them into a pan with some butter and started sauteeing them. She wiped at her eyes, moist from the onions, with the back of her hand. "They're really working directly on their own decisions about food and what they want. They're solving their own problems."

"But that can't work for everyone," Steve had said. "I know," Ella said. "But it's a place to start."

She'd cooked quinoa, a grain from South America. It was light brown, round, and had a little white ring around every grain. The germ ring, Ella said. The baby plant. She said quinoa was high in protein for a grain, and the protein was fairly complete, and it was really a grass, not a cereal. It cooked like rice while it was cooking, with a lot of water, simmering with the lid on. Ella told him she had just recently discovered it and was trying it in everything. Then the other veggies went into the pan with the onions, and more butter, and pistachio oil. 

"You aren't allergic to nuts, right?" she suddenly asked, worried. "No, I'm not," Steve said. Actually, all his allergies and asthma had gone away with the serum. Ella relaxed, and turned back to the cooking. They'd continued to talk as she finished assembling everything, and eventually they'd sat at the coffee table, repurposing his makeshift bed to sit on the pillows. They sat next to each other, and talked more about food. Steve hadn't thought he had much to say about food, because he hadn't ever enjoyed cooking before, but somehow they talked all through dinner and then long after the plates were empty and pushed away from them on the table. 

They'd played cards again, and Ella had finally got him to try a silly crossword-like game called Bananagrams. The thing was basically a set of Scrabble tiles without the scores marked on the letters, and it came in a ridiculous banana-shaped bag. He'd said to her that Scrabble was new to him to begin with. She was surprised, but looked it up online and in fact Scrabble hadn't been invented by that name until after the war. And this game, which had no board and allowed you to rearrange all your letters at any time, was a little too free-form for him. But Steve tried it anyway, and succeeded in making several small words connect to each other. Ella assured him that's always what it's like when you first play the game. He figured she was humoring him. 

Actually part of his poor playing strategy was that he kept getting distracted watching Ella. She was totally focused on the letter tiles, and he felt like he could take her in without worrying about her noticing. He wondered at how easy it was to talk to her, even with all that was going on for him. She hadn't pushed him, hadn't asked what had been bothering him. Steve was deeply grateful for that. She seemed to need to be occupied with something, or talking about something, all the time. He hadn't really noticed that about her in the other times he'd spent with her, but then, he'd never spent this much continuous time with her before. 

That might become annoying at some point, he thought, but right now it was really nice. It was a pleasant distraction, and a nice way to spend the time. He watched as she slid letters around, then leaned her head on a hand and tapped the table with her fingers. Her hair was longer now than it had been when she'd been on the East Coast. It was still curly, but the weight of it pulled most of it straight. She had it drawn back in a wavy, straggly ponytail, but little bits had escaped and curled next to her neck and temples. Even though she was wearing a loose, translucent overshirt, there was a tight shirt under it and every now and again he could see curves, half concealed. Steve remembered the feel of her skin as he'd slid his hands over those curves, back in New York. 

He caught himself imagining getting to do that again, and looked back down at his tiles and tried ineffectually to rearrange them, to distract himself. He managed to spell "LIBRARY" by the time she'd sat back triumphantly, having used all her tiles and declaring herself the winner. Steve looked over at her part of the table. "DISHEVELED?" he exclaimed. "How did you manage that!!?"

Ella had laughed, and said it was lucky that she'd drawn the V at the right time when she had too many Es. Steve disbelieved, and there was some teasing back and forth, and eventually it was time for bed. 

The next day they'd gotten up, had a quick breakfast, and walked downtown to the train station. The train looked familiar, like the Metro in D.C. Ella said that the same architect had designed both train systems, and the Bay Area system was first, with the D.C. Metro second and clearly fancier. She seemed to be particularly excited about the train as it arrived, stepping a little too close as it lumbered into the station and slowed to a stop, the pitch of its song dropping as electric motors geared down. They rode all the way into San Francisco, and then walked up the Embarcadero to Pier 39. It was a beautiful day, breezy but not too cold, and the people who were out and about were fascinating. There was a nude bike-riding group that passed them at one point; Steve glanced over at at Ella with a look of disbelief. She burst out laughing and said, "That's San Francisco for you. I always thought that looked really uncomfortable, you know? With no protection from the seat?" and kept laughing; he laughed with her. 

Pier 39 was a touristy place, but cute enough. Ella took him to the end of the pier and pointed out the large group of sea lions laying around the end of the pier. They were pretty funny to watch, mostly not moving, and making quite a racket, but every now and then climbing around surprisingly gracefully. Then Ella was telling him the differences between seals and sea lions as they left the pier and headed west along the northern edge of the city, through Fisherman's Wharf.

Passing a building labeled the "Musee Mecanique", she suddenly got excited and grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. Steve was totally unprepared for the vast array of vintage coin-operated games and sundries. Some of them were familiar to him, and though Ella was saying something to him about how she'd come here with her great aunt and cousin many times, back when the museum had been by the Cliffhouse, he wasn't listening. He was remembering playing games like these with Bucky, remembering getting fortunes told, remembering getting beat up in the alley outside the penny arcade for his change and having to go home with nothing. Parts of his childhood came back to him that he hadn't even realized he'd forgotten. 

Suddenly Steve realized Ella wasn't talking to him anymore and was instead digging around in her pockets for change. She came up with some quarters, and held them out to him. "Want to play some?" she said, looking up at him. 

She must have caught his expression, because she made a small, "Oh" sound and lowered her hand a bit. Before Ella could ask if he was okay, Steve caught up with himself, made himself smile down at her, and said, "You know, when I used to play those games, they were only a penny." She recovered a bit and looked down at her hand and laughed. "Well, inflation, I guess." He reached down and took a couple of quarters from her and said, "Let's see if they still have my favorite." 

~*~

They'd walked from there to Ghiradelli Square, and had ice cream sundaes for lunch. So much for the healthy food plan of the previous day. Ella was unrepentant about that, claiming that she rarely did this kind of thing anymore. Steve had raised his eyebrows, but said nothing and continued to enjoy the chocolate ice cream. They bought some of the Ghiradelli chocolate squares in various flavors, and then started back towards the Ferry Building. That was when she'd said she needed to get a few things. And now he stood, looking out at the bay, waiting for her. Thinking about her.

Steve looked down at the water, lapping at the concrete of the pier. It was still pretty easy with her, easy to talk and to relax and have a good time. He felt guilty about it. Shouldn't he feel worse? Or like he was betraying Peggy? 

Steve sighed, lightly kicking the metal railing. It clanged softly. He was physically attracted to Ella, and... maybe more than that. But she'd said they could just be friends. Maybe she didn't want more than that? He was fairly certain she *was* interested in more (she didn't hide her reactions very well), but what did that mean? What did it really mean to have sex with someone nowadays? Even if it could be casual – and it had been, with her in New York – he really wasn't the casual type. That had been an unusual situation. Maybe he didn't feel the need to make an honest woman of her, so to speak, but it just seemed like intimacy went along with something more serious. 

And what about that? He would be a terrible partner, always away on missions and in danger. Surely Ella would want more stability than that? Would it put her in danger, if he had that kind of romantic relationship with her? Pepper had been involved in more than one problem of Tony's. Surely she wouldn't want a relationship which put her at risk? But how did you talk about these things? Steve was better at talking to women now than he had been (again he thought sardonically of his first awkward conversation with Peggy in the car on the way to Erskine's procedure), but this seemed beyond him. Was it that people talked more openly about these things nowadays, or just that his talkative host seemed to? He still didn't know how to broach the subject; that was Ella's strength, not his.

Steve looked back up at the distant shore of the bay, following the landmarks again to her home. Was being here more confusing or less confusing? Was it helping him get his mind off Peggy's condition, or was it just making him more confused about how he should feel?

In that moment, Ella walked up behind him and said, "Okay, all done! Ready to head back?" Steve turned to her as she came up next to him and leaned on the railing too.

"Sure," he said, but didn't make any moves to go. Ella looked out over the bay thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "Tomorrow is Memorial Day."

"Mm," he assented.

She looked back at him. "Do you want to.... do anything?" Steve’s pulse quickened. Do? What did she mean, do?

"I mean, to recognize those who have fallen," Ella added. Oh. He felt muscles relax that he didn't realize he'd tightened.

Steve looked down. He hadn't thought about it, but it might be helpful with figuring out how to let go of things. He said, "Actually, that sounds like a good idea. What did you have in mind?"

Ella thought for a minute. "Well, there are all sorts of memorial services all around the bay. And there are military cemeteries we could go to. And fireworks, in the evening."

Steve turned around and faced away from the water, towards the Ferry Building with all its passerby, leaning back on the railing. He crossed his arms, and considered how to frame his thought. "I think... there will be a lot of people at all of those events."

Ella nodded, seeming to understand. "Yeah. Do you want to do something... more private?" Where was his mind?! She was certainly not talking about that kind of private, but that was what he started thinking of. "Like what?" he managed.

"Hmmm. Well, sometimes my parents and I would watch Fourth of July fireworks from up on Grizzly Peak, looking out over the bay," she said. "There will be some people who will do that, but probably not as many for Memorial day as there would be for something like Fourth of July."

Steve considered. "That sounds nice." 

"We could bring a picnic dinner," Ella continued. "And we could talk about the people who have fallen..." Steve’s heart sank as he thought of Bucky. Fallen, and risen again... only to fall in a different way? "Or we could not talk, too," Ella amended; she must have seen the look on his face. 

Gamely, he said, "That sounds like a great idea. Let's do it." She nodded, and then gestured towards the city, away from the water. "Shall we head back?"

Steve nodded, and slipped his sunglasses back on and the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. They'd bought it at Pier 39 – a few sizes too large. He'd told her that it had worked well for him not to be recognized when he and Natasha had been on the run – a hoodie and glasses. It was also pleasantly warm against the stiff breeze which was cooling by the minute as they stood by the water.

He looked back briefly to Treasure Island and the Bay Bridge, thinking fleetingly about how the world had changed, but then turned and followed Ella back into the city towards the train station and home across the water.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning, they stood in front of his motorcycle, Ella looking at it doubtfully. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" Steve asked her.

Ella looked up at him. He was holding his helmet, waiting to hand it to her. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and held out her hand to take it. "I am still pretty scared, but... I do want to go up to the hills to watch the fireworks." She didn't have a car, so the dinner picnic and Memorial Day fireworks viewing plan was going to require that they take his ride up the hill to the park. The spot she had in mind didn't have a bus stop anywhere nearby, and was definitely too far to walk to in the time they had – and was a little beyond her current fitness level.

Steve nodded, and then said to her, "Don't worry, I'll drive really carefully." Ella nodded back, swallowed, and put the helmet on. It was a little big, of course, but it was still claustrophobic. She was vaguely worried about him riding without a helmet, but thought to herself that he was probably the safest person to ride without a helmet that there was. He leaned close to her and said, loudly enough for her to hear through the helmet, "So the main thing to do is just to hang on. I won't drive very fast, or take turns too fast, so it shouldn't be too hard to do that." Ella nodded. "I'll get on first, and then you climb on behind me." She nodded again.

Steve turned and straddled the bike. Ella swallowed hard, forcing down a rising feeling of panic, and tightened her backpack straps, checking the hip and sternum clips. The backpack contained the precious picnic. Finally, she sighed, and went to try to get on the bike.

The seat was higher than she'd realized, but as she struggled to climb on, Steve shifted slightly, leaning towards her and helping her to get into position somehow. The bike was also wider than she would have guessed, but once she was settled in behind him, and had got her arms around his middle and her feet in the places he'd pointed out to her beforehand, she found it was reasonably comfortable. She wasn't sure she would have wanted to ride like that for a really long time, but it wasn't so bad. She almost had time to think about the fact that she was wrapped around Steve, but then he started the engine and her panic came back all over again.

Ella told herself just to breathe, focus on breathing and holding on, and that it was going to be okay. After a second of idling the engine, he pushed off and away they went.

It took a few minutes for Ella to realize how stable the ride was. At first, she was hanging onto him for dear life, but after a bit, she started to feel the graceful and balanced way the bike leaned and turned as they wove through the city towards the hills. How he used exactly the right shifts in the way his body was positioned to achieve it. It clearly wasn't like driving a car – he wasn't just turning the handlebars (did you call them handlebars?), but using his whole body to steer, as if the bike were part of him. Ella had seen people do this kind of thing before, where an object became like an extension of themselves, but she'd never experienced it so... directly. And with the helmet on, the wind whipping by and the loudness of the engine were somewhat distant. She started to enjoy the ride.

And at some point, she started to notice how the vibration of the bike was stimulating to the parts of her in contact with it. Ella smirked. She could see why people liked riding these things. And as her mind wandered, she became exquisitely aware of who she was hanging onto, realizing that she could feel the little details of Steve moving as he drove, muscles shifting in precise and graceful ways. These observations and the stimulation of the bike had the predictable effect, and Ella had the somewhat silly thought that if she got too turned on she might slide off the bike.

Steve hadn't been very affectionate since he'd gotten here. Not even as much as he'd been, that last time they'd seen each other in DC. Back then he'd kissed her, and they'd hugged. This time he hadn't really even shaken hands. Every now and then, they might accidentally touch, or there was that moment when she’d grabbed his arm without thinking to show him the Musee Mecanique. But otherwise, not much. Ella didn't know what to make of it, but she still knew something was bothering him, so she kept telling herself that it wasn't her. 

Steve obviously liked her enough, at least as a friend, to want to come stay with her. But there was a part of her that was starting to feel sad and disappointed that maybe he really wasn't interested in her. Even though intellectually Ella kept reminding herself that friendship is just as important as romance, it was starting to get to her. 

And it *had* been a long time since she’d been in any kind of relationship... a couple of casual dates since she’d been back in California, but otherwise... it had been since she and Ethan had broken up, that she’d seriously dated anyone. And since Steve that she’d been really intimate with anyone. So it was nice to find that though a part of her felt a little sad and disappointed that Steve wasn’t being very affectionate, that part of her didn't really have much traction when she was hanging onto him as they rode up into the hills as the sun got lower and lower in the sky.

Of course, this was just how you rode on a motorcycle as a passenger. It didn't necessarily mean anything for her to be wrapped around him. But there was something reassuring about the physical contact, even if it wasn't clearly a sign of interest. Ella realized with growing sadness that she'd been pretty lonely for a while... though she still enjoyed being single and having things her way, not having to take other people into account when making plans... feeling confident in her own abilities to run her own life and enjoy herself... maybe it was starting to get a little old, having to always be her own company. Though she was glad to get to see her parents more often now that she was back in town, it wasn’t quite the same as having a partner.

All the times she and Steve had talked in New York, the lunch in DC, and that time when they'd talked on the phone a few weeks ago had actually been more important to her than she realized. Having him here now – wrapping her arms around him for a legitimate, safety-oriented reason – was feeding something in her that she hadn't quite realized was starving.

Ella wasn't really sure what that might mean. He probably wasn't interested in her as a partner, and even if he were, what would a relationship with him be like anyway? What about how dangerous his work was? How frequently he was away on missions? How famous he was? His unique history and his deeply ingrained training as a soldier? What about the potential for the risks he took to bleed over to her? Surely some of the people he was after could find out about her – what if she became a liability to him? What would that mean for her own safety and quality of life?

But Ella also remembered how incredibly sincere, loyal, and sweet he was. The way he was always curious about this world he'd been slingshot into, and his intelligence and sense of humor about, well, pretty much everything. And she told herself, who knows. Just take it as it comes.

Ella spent the rest of the ride just trying to enjoy the sensations of wind and speed, the vibration and movement of the bike, the feeling of Steve using his body to steer it, and the glimpses of the scenery flashing past when she turned her head to the side and peered out of the helmet. She had to admit, it was pretty nice.


	20. Chapter 20

Ella and Steve arrived at the spot she'd shown him on the map beforehand and he pulled carefully off the road, they stopped, and he turned off the engine. Ella figured it was her job to get off the bike first, so she did so, with a little help, and found her legs just a tad weak. From fear, relief, exhilaration, or arousal, she wasn't sure which. She pulled the motorcycle helmet off, holding it under one arm, and ran her free hand through her hair to unstick it from her forehead. Reminded her a bit of when she used to fence in high school, actually. Same problem of sweat and the confined space of a safety helmet to get your hair plastered to your face.

Ella glanced over at Steve and had to admit that he looked pretty sexy on the bike, and she felt like a much cooler person, having ridden on one. She could see the appeal, and she could also see how one could get used to the experience and forget how dangerous it was, or at least how dangerous it could be. Now that her feet were safely on the ground and she didn't appear to have collapsed, she took a longer look at him as he climbed off the bike and they started off, headed a little ways away from the road to the lookout area. He was, as always, easy on the eyes. And walking a little closer to Ella than he'd been over the earlier part of the weekend, she thought hopefully. He was pretty irresistible, wearing the leather jacket and jeans and a slight smile, and Ella was definitely aroused. She blushed as he looked back at her and said, "So? You okay?"

Ella tried to hide her feelings, smiling and nodding. "Yeah – I can see why people like it." She added hastily, "I wouldn't want to use it for my commute, or anything... But it's fun." Steve looked down, smiling and shaking his head a little. "I'm glad you liked it," he said. "To tell the truth, I was a little worried about that."

"It's okay, Steve," Ella eagerly reassured him, "I decided I wanted to try it, and I can't think of anyone I trust more than you... especially for something like this." She thought for a moment. "And, actually, really, in general. You're... pretty high on my list."

He looked over at her again. She had a hard time reading his expression. But he said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Ella responded. What had she said? She shouldn't have said that. Oh well.

They arrived at the picnic spot. Steve parked the bike off to the side and pulled out the picnic blanket, giving it a quick flip to shake it out to its full length. Ella caught the other side and they laid it on the ground together. Then she slid off her shoes and sat on the blanket, unclipping and pulling her backpack off and starting to take inventory of the picnic dinner.

They'd laid the blanket right at the edge of the flat space of the vista turnout. In front of them, the hill fell away, offering a breathtaking view of the canyon below, and further beyond that, the hill-perched houses of wealthy Berkeley and Oakland residents – those who could afford the view. Looking below that, you could see the flatter parts of the cities where those who could not afford the view lived, and then a great expanse of sunlit water, and then San Francisco, the Golden Gate, and Mount Tamalpais to the north, in Marin county, silhouetted dark by the sinking sun.

It was a view that always struck Ella as magical. Staring out at it, she said to Steve, "You know – I grew up in a valley somewhere behind us, at the foot of another mountain, Mount Diablo. That's Mount Tam over there to the right of the Golden Gate – Mount Tamalpais – a friend of mine who grew up on this side of the ridge told me that as a kid, he'd heard the legend that Mount Diablo and Mount Tam were ancient lovers."

"Oh?" Steve responded. Ella wasn't even looking at him: still staring out across the water at the view. "Yeah, Mount Diablo was the man, and Mount Tam the woman – so you can see, she's laying on her side there, waiting for him."

"Mm," Steve responded. Ella looked over at him suddenly. He seemed uncomfortable, and lost in thought. She'd better change the subject.

"Anyhow," she said brightly, "I thought we could at the very least raise a glass to those who have fallen in our service."

Steve appeared to get ahold of himself and nodded, setting out the glasses they'd brought. They were plastic wine glasses – a gift from Ella’s great-aunt, part of a picnic set. Maybe a little less classy, but definitely appropriate for a picnic. Ella pulled the small bottle of mead out of her backpack. She'd been saving it for some occasion – she had decided this was a good one. Maybe the beverage's classiness could cancel out the glasses' lack of classiness. She struggled for a moment with the bottle opener, but Steve didn't seem to notice. He was looking out over the bay, definitely thinking about something.

Eventually Ella succeeded with the bottle and poured a little mead in each glass, handing him one. Steve took it graciously and held it up to the sun and the Golden Gate and said, "To all those who have fought and died for freedom." "Hear, hear," Ella said, and they both drank.

A moment went by, each of them thinking their own private thoughts. Ella contemplated the texture and taste of the honeyed drink on her tongue, and thought about the fact that Steve hadn't said soldiers. And she was thinking that lots of people fight for freedom, for their own and that of others, and lots of people die for freedom who aren't soldiers. She realized that of course he knew that. Ella also realized she hadn't lost many loved ones in a war, only second cousins and friends-of-friends. Though she had many friends and family members who were veterans; she’d been lucky, she thought. Steve must have lost so many people... but he didn't seem to want to talk about it. Ella let it be.

At length, she offered him more mead. He nodded, holding out his glass. She poured, and he took a swallow. A moment later, he laughed. 

"What?" Ella asked. 

Steve smiled and looked down. "The mead reminds me of Thor, that's all." She laughed too. The gravity of the moment lightened a bit. "He is quite something, isn't he?" Ella said, remembering the first time she’d met him, outside the elevator at Avengers Tower. It seemed like a long time ago, though it had only been a year and a half.

"Yeah." Steve looked down at his glass, then raised it and downed the rest, twirling the stem idly. "He can be so predictable in some ways and then so unpredictable in others."

"How so?" Ella asked, sipping at her mead, and held out the bottle to Steve. He took it and poured himself some more. She pulled out the cheese and crackers from the Ferry building. The crackers were just Water Crackers, but they were flavored with black pepper. The cheese, though, was an assortment of her favorites: a soft creme brie, an herbed goat cheese, and a hard smoked gouda. "Can you hand me the cutting board and knife?" He nodded and dug it out of the picnic bag, apparently considering her first question.

"Well... He doesn't always really explain the whole Asgardian thing. I guess maybe those are the rules? But the last time he left, he said he had to check on something about Infinity Stones. Let's just say he didn't specify what those were or what he had to check on about them." Steve suddenly looked around a bit, as if concerned that someone could hear. So that must be potentially sensitive information, Ella thought.

"Mm," she said, cutting slices of cheese and setting them on one of the little plastic plates. "I guess it makes sense that the Asgardians don't share their technological information with us, if they're really so advanced. Standard science fiction rules about interfering with 'less-advanced races' apply... though I still think that's problematic logic. And it sounds like they've done plenty of interfering already. But whatever. Not like we're in a position to do much about it." She sighed. 

Steve nodded, and took a cracker and cheese. He bit into it, and made a muffled sound of pleasure. "It's good," he said somewhat indistinctly.

Ella looked at which one he was eating – the creme brie. "Oh, good – I'm glad you liked it. I picked one that isn't so strong as some. French cheese really can be, ah, odoriferous."

"Tell me about it," Steve said. "One of the guys on my team... back in the day..." he trailed off a little, "Well, he was French, and a couple of times he tried to get me to try this really strong cheese. Let's just say... it wasn't my thing." He chuckled, and Ella joined him.

"Anyway, about Thor, though. He's not usually unpredictable like that, running off... usually you can count on him to be a little... impulsive, but otherwise his motivations and style are pretty consistent. Kind of a hero type, you know?" Steve said.

Ella looked over at him slyly. "And you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" she teased. She hoped he knew she was teasing.

Steve looked back at her and then looked down at the half-eaten cracker. He shoved the rest in his mouth and appeared to be thinking. Ella worried that she'd overstepped things a little. She started thinking frantically of how to change the subject to something more benign. Of course, it never occurred to her to just give him time, or to let the silence be. It wasn't her way. She was always so compelled to talk and to be talking with people. To try to make sure everyone was okay.

But before Ella could think of anything else to say, Steve swallowed, took another gulp of mead, and said, "Yeah. You're right."

It seemed like there was more. Ella closed her mouth and waited for him to go on. At length, he looked up, out at the setting sun, which was starting to sink behind the summer fog that was beginning to drift in through the Golden Gate. Then he said, "If you could pick any time in your life to be... made more you, what time in your life would you pick?"

Ella hesitated. "I"m not sure I understand?"

Steve sighed, and looked over at her again. "I mean, when Erskine offered me the chance to serve... there was absolutely no question that it was the right thing to do. I wanted so badly to be out there, on the front lines, doing something to win the war. To fight the bullies. To help protect all the other guys who were out there fighting and dying." He paused. Ella waited, not sure what to say. 

Eventually, he continued, "Anyway, if I had it to do over again, I would do it – a thousand times, I'd do it. And... I'd go in the ice again, too." He hesitated a moment here, considering. "I don't really have any regrets. But... I do sometimes wonder.... Erskine told me, the night before the procedure, that the serum would amplify whatever I had inside me. I wonder what would have happened if it had been some other time in my life, when the need to make things right in the world wasn't so strong."

Ella nodded slowly, munching a cracker with goat cheese. "I see what you mean. If, knowing how your life was going to go, if you would know when in your life to pick your strongest ideals of the time and make them that much stronger."

"Yeah," Steve said, nodding. He stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles, and leaned back on his elbows as the sun disappeared behind the fog. The sky was still bright, and the edge of the fog bank was brilliant with refracted light. It was beautiful, even at this distance.

He went on, "I just feel sometimes like the strong desire to do right... well, it was clear back then. Now it's so much more... complicated. Feeling such a strong need, now, to try to figure it out... when sometimes there isn't really a right answer... I just wonder if maybe some other part of me would be more useful now. And... sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder what I would have been like if I hadn't had the serum." He was particularly tentative about the last part.

Ella pulled out the casseroles they'd picked out from the store and unwrapped them. A chicken and noodle casserole for him, a mushroom and egg and lentil casserole for her. "I think that's only natural to wonder," she said, holding her hand out for his plate. Steve looked over at Ella and saw her waiting, reached behind himself for the plate and handed it to her. She put the casserole on it and handed it back to him. Meanwhile, he'd dug out the knives and forks and handed her a set. She added, "I mean, it was a big change in your life, right? It's normal to wonder how things could have gone differently."

"Yeah, I guess so," Steve allowed. Ella went on, "And besides, to me it's hard to imagine that it would change later in your life – your desire to do the right thing, to protect people, to help people. It seems like a core value to me." He nodded. 

"I guess... I don't know when I would pick, in my life," Ella mused. "I would think it would always seem like the present would be the best time, for me. I'm always learning more about how to make a difference in the world, how to be effective in my personal life and my work life... I'm always getting more confident. So I wouldn't have known when to choose to do it, if it were me. Maybe it's not something you can know – it's something inspired by the events of the time, like it was for you." 

"Mm," Steve said, mouth full of casserole. He swallowed, and said, "You're lucky, that your life just keeps getting better and better." Ella nodded, and said, "At least, that's how it seems to me. Most of the time, anyway," she allowed, remembering her realization earlier that she was lonelier than she’d realized. 

Ella took another bite of casserole and watched as the sun finished setting. The light slowly faded in the west, the sky shifting from pale blue to dark blue to cobalt blue to black. Stars started to become visible. As she sat there, chewing the last of her dinner, Ella thought to herself how romantic it was. If she knew more about whether Steve was interested, she would almost have called this a date. It would have been a pretty nice date, she thought. But as it stood... well, she was having a nice time, anyway. She looked over at him; he still seemed lost in thought. They ate in silence for a while.


	21. Chapter 21

Dinner finished, Ella got out the little apple galettes she'd bought for dessert, along with some napkins, and handed Steve one, nibbling away at hers. He took it and held onto it for a while, contemplatively taking a bite from time to time. They both watched as the city lights danced and flickered from the turbulence of the warm city air rising into the cooling night. The urban heat island had some pleasant visual effects, Ella thought. The cities of the Bay looked like clouds of scattered jewels sparkling in black velvet as she watched.

Then a small light flickered and bloomed out near the closer edge of the bay. To the north of them, over the Berkeley Marina. "There!" Ella said, pointing. She noticed with a little thrill after she did it that her arm was really close to Steve’s. She slowly lowered her arm back to her lap. Steve didn't notice, but looked over where she'd pointed, drawing his knees up and resting his arms on them. 

The two of them watched the firework show from a distance. "They always seem so small when you're this far away," Ella said. "Totally different from when you're right underneath them. But they're still beautiful... it almost feels like you could hold them in your hand."

Ella saw him nod in silhouette, watching the distant festive explosions. As they watched, a few other fireworks shows sprouted up in different locations – one over by the ballpark in the south side of San Francisco, and one somewhere south in Alameda. Eventually, each one reached its finale, one after the other, and flickered out like a candle flame blown by the wind.

They were both quiet for a while afterwards. As the fog rolled in over the water, the city lights slowly blurred and became indistinguishable smears of color painted on the clouds. At length, relaxed and pensive from the mead and the good food and the interesting conversation, Ella started to sing.

"Good night, my love.  
The tired old moon is descending.  
Good night, my love,  
My moment with you now is ending.

"It was so heavenly,   
holding you close to me,  
It will be heavenly  
to hold you again in a dream.

"The stars above  
have promised to meet us tomorrow.  
Till then, my love,   
How dreary the new day will seem!

"But for the present, dear,  
We'll have to part –   
Sleep tight, my love,  
Good night, my love,  
Remember that you're my  
Sweetheart."

The sound of her voice faded quickly in the open air of the hillside. They were too high up for it to echo in the canyon below.

Steve broke the silence. "You have a nice singing voice." 

"Thank you," Ella said, basking a little in the glow of the compliment. "My grandmother is a singer – soprano, used to do solos, even, back in the day. I think I get it from her. I've only had a few voice lessons, but I really enjoy it when I get the chance and have the funds."

Ella heard a smile in his voice. "That song is from the movie Stowaway, isn't it?" he asked.

Brow furrowed, Ella thought for a moment. "I don't know that one. I heard the song first in a movie called "Swing Kids" about the swing dance movement in Nazi Germany. The overall plot is about two friends who end up being enrolled in the Hitler youth, and one of them kind of goes to the dark side, but the other one keeps going at night to these secret swing dance parties. It's a kind of subversive resistance through dance. The soundtrack to the movie is really excellent – there's a lot of great swing music in it." Suddenly she remembered who she was talking to. "Actually... is that accurate? Did you know of anything about swing dance clubs during the war?"

Steve didn't answer. It was dark, but Ella tried to look over at him to see his reaction. Something was wrong? She couldn't see his face at all, but based on his body language, he seemed withdrawn and upset. Which was unusual enough for him, to begin with.

Suddenly worried that she'd screwed up royally, Ella rambled anxiously: "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to ask about the war... I know I said we didn't have to talk about the people who'd died... I shouldn't have said anything..." Steve didn't respond, and Ella uncharacteristically decided that maybe more words wouldn't help, so she shut up and waited unhappily to see if he'd say anything.

When Steve finally spoke, his voice was unsteady. "No, it's all right. It's just... I don't know much about dancing. I... I never learned." Was he crying? 

Then, more quietly, maybe to himself, he added: "We never did get that dance. And now we never will." He was definitely crying, now, very softly. Ella could just barely hear it in his voice and see the very small movements of his shoulders. Was this the thing that had been bothering him – the thing that had brought him out on this trip? 

Ella hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if she should try to comfort him. This was Captain America, someone she imagined didn't often if ever cry about anything. Would he feel embarrassed or ashamed if she drew attention to it? But... he'd come to see her, right? They'd already talked about pretty personal things before. If he hadn't wanted some kind of comfort, he wouldn't have come, she decided. And everyone needs comfort at some point. 

So Ella erred on the side of compassion, scooching towards Steve on the blanket and putting her hand on his forearm where it rested on his knee. After a bit, he seemed to have stopped, so Ella ventured, "Who were you going to dance with?"

Steve took a deep, shaky breath. He leaned back and tilted his head up; Ella guessed, looking at the stars and thinking? Maybe considering whether to tell her about it? Finally, he said, "Peggy. Peggy Carter."

He was silent again for a while. At this point Ella was less worried that she’d done something to upset him, and she knew better than to say anything, so she just waited, keeping her hand on his arm. Steve looked down at his hands, and the way his head was turned, she could just barely make out his profile and see the slight glisten of the remains of tears. He said quietly, to himself, "She was the right partner..." Ella’s heart sank. She scolded herself. You have no claim on him. You're just his friend. This is important. Stay with him here.

Steve drew in a breath, and with the arm Ella wasn't touching, wiped at his face, drying the last of the wetness. He put his free hand over hers for a moment, and then stood, dusting crumbs off his legs. Ella scrambled up to stand beside him. 

Steve said to her, "She was an agent in the program I joined back in the war. She... she was really something." He stopped. Ella wasn't sure what to say. It was clear that Peggy had been special to him. Ella couldn't tell if he wanted to say more, if that would help him, or if that was all of it. So she waited again.

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets. After a while, he said "When I first met her, she was so far out of my league – it wasn't even funny!" he laughed a little, just the same. "I admired her, just like the other guys. But... There came a point, after I'd had the serum, after I was making a real difference in fighting Schmidt... after I'd rescued Bucky and the others... I think I started to feel like maybe we had something."

Ella nodded, and then remembered that Steve couldn't see her. "Mm," she said, trying to show she was listening, without interrupting.

"Peggy was... she was brilliant, and gorgeous, and *very* good at her job," Steve said. "I had hoped... well, maybe it was stupid, but I had hoped after the war was over that maybe we could be together. It was the only time I thought past the end of the war. I hadn't really thought it through, though. We made kind of a date to go dancing..." Steve paused for a while, and when he began again, he sounded a little shaky again. "But then I went in the ice. I missed our date by about 70 years."

"Ah," Ella said. She was starting to get the picture.

Steve went on, "And... well, she was still alive when they found me and... thawed me out. I... used to go see her. But... sometimes it was really hard. There were... parts of her old self, still there. But most of the time she would get confused, forget that I was back." Ella knew what he meant. One of her grandfathers had passed away a few years ago, and there had been a point at which he had declined and gotten confused. It had been hard... but that time had been precious, just the same. She didn't say anything, though, because Steve didn't seem to be finished.

"Anyway, she's... well. She's still alive. But she had a stroke – the doctors say she'll never wake up. Maybe she has a few months left, at most." He paused. Then he took his hands out of his pockets and ran them through his hair, stood there a moment, then sighed and sat back down on the blanket. Ella sat again too, next to him. 

"It's really getting to me, you know? I mean, I keep telling myself that she was really gone a long time ago, and I lost my chance with her a long time before that. But somehow... now that I know I'll never talk to her again... it's worse than I expected it to be. And she isn't even actually gone yet."

Steve seemed to have reached a stopping point. It made a lot of sense, Ella thought. Why he'd come here, and why he was so quiet and more withdrawn than he had been with her before. She didn't think she could really imagine how she'd feel in his place. She did have a few thoughts, though, of what to say to him, and decided maybe it was okay to share them at this point. 

So she started with, "Steve, I'm really sorry to hear that... it's clear how much she means to you. And I'm sorry, too, about your missed chance with her." 

"Thanks," he said. 

Ella winced at the bitterness so evident in his voice, and went on. "But it makes complete sense to me that this could hit you hard. Sure, you might have missed your date back in the '40s... and sure, she might not have been how you remembered her... but you've got to give yourself some credit. It's not like you lived those 70 years. For you it was one moment and the next. It wasn't like you had all that time to let her go, emotionally. And now... you've had to face it, letting her go."

Ella saw Steve nod. "Well, that's true." He was silent for a few moments, maybe thinking about what she had said. Then: "Anyway... I had told her, before getting the serum, that I'd never learned to dance, and told her I was waiting for the right partner. And... we never got that dance. I mean, by the time I came back and connected with her again, of course she wasn't in good enough shape to... well. I guess the point is now I can't ignore the fact that we never will." He sounded a little less upset, now, and more wistful.

"I get it," Ella said. Then she had a thought. She added, very tentatively, "Steve... you know, I love to swing dance, but it's been a really long time – since high school, I think? – and I've forgotten a lot of it. Would you like to maybe learn a little, in her honor? I know I'm not the right partner, but..." 

This last bit came a little from Ella’s hurt place. Hearing him describe Peggy, both the actual description and the unmistakable devotion he felt for her, even now, left Ella with no illusions about his potential interest in a hookup with his host. But Ella loved to dance, and she really did think maybe it might actually help him. ...And maybe a little part of her was still secretly hoping he might like her.

But Steve caught the self-deprecating tone, and responded quickly, "Hey, no, come on, you're really great. Any guy would be lucky to be with you." Ella tried to let that make her feel better, but it was hard to believe it was more than just him being nice.

"Uh, thanks," she said. "I just thought... maybe you could find some kind of closure by learning a little swing. In a way, honor what you might have had with her by continuing to live. She kinda sounds to me like she was a no-nonsense person, you know? Like she'd tell you to get on with your life." Ella was taking a chance, guessing about Peggy from what Steve had just told her.

Steve looked down and laughed, and said, "Yeah, she was. She probably would have said something like that. Would have said I was being overdramatic." Ella breathed a sigh of relief that her judgment call had been right.

Steve was silent for quite a while. Eventually, he said, "I think I would like that."

Hope flooded back into Ella. She scolded herself again. "Great!" she said. "We could start by going to one of the bars that has a swing dancing night. They'll do some teaching before the evening's dancing. And usually teaching sets involve swapping partners a lot, so, you know, it won't seem like you're only dancing with me – the focus is on learning the dancing."

Steve took exception to her tone again. He said, a little awkwardly, "Listen, I... I would actually really like to dance with you. I... really enjoy spending time with you, and I've been having a great time here so far." 

Ella couldn't see his face, but her pulse quickened. Was it possible that he was actually interested, then? But... even if he was, it was so clear that this grief was too present. Peggy was so important to him. Ella didn't want to be some kind of rebound relationship or whatever. Or did she? Well, whatever. She responded to his statement at face value. "I'm really glad you're enjoying it. It's really nice to get to show you all of my favorite things. And... I really enjoy spending time with you too."

Suddenly it became a little unbearable for her, how close they were sitting to each other. She added on, "Um... should we head back? It is getting kind of late."

"Yeah," Steve said, and stood, offering her a hand up. Ella stood too, close to him. "Hey – thanks for listening," he added, still holding her hand. 

"Sure," she answered, "You know, you really can talk to me about anything. I know it's a cliche, but I really am here for you." A moment went by, and he leaned down and kissed her quickly on the cheek. Pausing for a second before straightening back up, he murmured in her ear, "I really appreciate it." 

Ella was on fire at the touch of his lips and the feel of his breath and vibration of his voice, so close, even for that moment; but she tried to contain it as they packed up the picnic, folded up the blanket, put everything away, and got back on the bike to head home. 

The night air whipped past her, cold even with the helmet on. But she didn't feel cold, wrapped around him as he took them back down to Ella’s place. Somehow it felt different, feeling him move against her as he drove. More promising, somehow. Ella tried to keep her level of excitement down, but she thought to herself, this is definitely the most memorable Memorial Day she’d ever had.


	22. Chapter 22

### Part Seven

__

_May 28th, 2015_

_Dear Peggy,_

_Ella suggested I try writing this letter to you... to say goodbye. To help me move on. I’m not sure what to say to you, even now. You’re not actually gone yet, but I know you’ll never read this. How can I put in words how much you mean to me, how much I regret missing the life we could have had? That’s something I never wanted to say to you in person, because I thought it would hurt us both too much if I said it out loud. I guess I’m writing it down, instead._

_You inspired me. You still inspire me. You made me who I am. I’m just grateful I had some time with you after I came back and before... well, before you left. Ella thought that you’d want me to get on with my life, and I think she’s right. So... I’m going to go learn to dance. I hope that’s okay. I waited for the right partner, but I waited too long. And I think you wouldn’t want me to wait any more._

_I miss you. You’re the love of my life. But... it’s time for me to say goodbye. Again. To let you go, move on, and try to become whole without you. That’s not something I’m sure I can do, but I guess I have to try._

_Steve_

~*~

Steve had to admit to himself that he felt a little nervous as they walked from the train station to the bar where the swing class was. Ella had said it was really informal, and though she hadn't been to this particular bar, her friends had and they said it was really great for beginners. She also said she didn't usually walk into this part of town at night, but that with company she figured it was okay. The way she said it, she seemed to have forgotten who he was and that he faced much worse dangers frequently in his day job. It was actually kind of pleasant, to be treated like just another person for a change. It helped him forget work, for a while. It helped him forget losing Peggy, just a little.

But the prospect of actually trying to dance... and not something slow, but something complicated and fast like swing... that was a bit nerve-wracking. Steve’s feelings about the whole thing were a jumble. He wanted to learn. He wanted to move on. He wanted the skill, for God's sake... and in some way he felt like maybe he could reclaim this part of his lost past and bring it to his very real present. 

But then his feelings about dancing with Ella were even more muddled. It wouldn't be Peggy... he'd told Ella that it was okay, that he wanted to dance with her. That had been true when he'd said it a week ago Monday at the picnic in the hills. But now that he was faced with it... All sorts of things came up. 

They hadn't touched much since he'd arrived, except for the motorcycle ride. That had been deeply satisfying and arousing, to have her wrapped around him like that. He'd been worried about her fear of the motorcycle, even when she'd said it was all right, which was why he hadn't argued when she suggested they take the train tonight rather than riding here. 

But just the same, feeling Ella’s arms around him... reminded him of how long it had been since he'd been intimate with anyone. Sharing the small studio space for the week and a half he'd been staying there had been deeply frustrating. To be so close, and not to really know what to do. He had been pretty sure Ella was interested, but she hadn't said anything along those lines since he'd told her about Peggy. 

She'd seemed a bit withdrawn, actually, in the last week. And though he was maybe starting to feel like he could let Peggy go a little more now, and he was definitely spending more time thinking about Ella in these sorts of ways, he still wasn't sure how to proceed, or if he should. He had tried to indicate that he was interested, but he figured he wasn't very good at that. He also thought that maybe to Ella, Peggy felt like the other woman even though she wasn't really any kind of competition. Steve admitted to himself, though, that she kind of was. 

And he *had* been trying to move on, since the collapse of SHIELD. He had managed to have a few other dates, a few other partners. They'd been nice enough, and one of them he'd even seen a few times and thought it might be promising... but she'd eventually gotten uncomfortable with everyone constantly recognizing him and broken it off. She was friendly enough about it, he'd thought. He wondered how she felt about having dumped Captain America. For his part, he'd been disappointed. But he hadn't ever really felt like he could open up with her anyway. The sex had been nice... though he'd still been a little unsure that it was appropriate. He'd been experimenting with trying to open up a bit on that, and it hadn't been so difficult, in the end. Though he'd been left feeling a little like he would still prefer doing it in the context of a more solid relationship. 

Either way, that had been months ago. Steve still sometimes thought about his neighbor from DC, Kate... well, really Agent 13, though not even that anymore. He remembered Natasha had told him her real name was Sharon. But then there had been Ultron, and then the work with the new Avengers... and then Peggy's condition.

Well, in any case, now that he'd been in California for a week or so, Steve had let his beard grow a bit, trimmed it tight along his jaw, and figured he wouldn't be so easily recognized that way. Just in case that was a problem. When they went out, he also wore what Ella had laughingly called 'nerd glasses.'

Anyway, contemplating dancing with Ella brought up all those frustrations and desires. But then there was also the feeling that dancing was something meaningful that he'd been waiting to do with the right person... Sex in a way was something that, for him, belonged to this century. He had adjusted to the fact that it was something people did out of wedlock and, for some people, even casually. But swing dancing was from his time, something that belonged to that era. And in that era, he'd been waiting. But what was he waiting for now? He’d set himself not to wait anymore. 

Steve tried not to think about it all, but failed miserably and kept going in circles about it as they walked up to the door of the bar. His anxiety intensified – he hadn't felt this way in a very long time. Since before he'd gone into the ice. It was like being nervous around girls all over again, or feeling like a ridiculous dancing monkey. Hm – only in this case, actually dancing for a change, he thought. Ella pushed the door open, and he took a deep breath and followed her in.

They were a little early, so they went to the bar and got a snack and a drink while they waited for the lesson to begin. One of Ella’s friends was there, and she introduced him. "This is Steve, a friend of mine visiting from New York." Steve looked for the inevitable flash of recognition in the girl's eyes, but didn't see it. He felt a moment of satisfaction. It was strange not to be clean-shaven and to be wearing glasses, but it seemed to be buying him some anonymity.

Then the moment came. The instructor called everyone up to the dance floor, and he tried not to let his nervousness show. There were more women than men by a factor of two, which Ella had warned him would be likely to happen. The instructor started by explaining that even though this was the West Coast, they'd be teaching East Coast Swing, and then started in on footwork. 

At first, Steve felt a little dumb, stepping mechanically from side to side (though everyone else was doing it too). Then they turned on the music, and he started to get it. The way the steps worked with the rhythm made a lot of sense. Then the instructor started to teach some more complicated footwork and he felt like he was tripping over his feet. He didn't dare look at Ella for fear she'd be laughing at him. But that, too, seemed to get easier when they turned the music back on. It dawned on Steve that this wasn't so different from the other things he'd been training in recently. He had picked up a lot of new fighting styles pretty quickly in the last few years, after all.

Then the nervousness started all over again as the instructor had them pair up. He ended up opposite Ella’s friend.

"I'm a little new at this," he said to her. She smiled. "It's okay, it's always hard to learn something new," she said. He made himself smile. Easy for her to say.

But after trying a few steps, he found that he wasn't stepping on her, after all. That was reassuring. Then the instructor called for them to switch partners, and there she was: the one who'd brung him. 

Ella was smiling at him. Steve held out his hand, and she placed hers on it. They were starting in 'open' position to get the footwork right, but then after reviewing the basic steps, the instructor told the men to put their other hand on the small of their partner's back, and the women to put theirs on their partner's shoulderblade.

There was a moment before the next instruction came where they just stood there, touching each other, so close, facing each other. They hadn't been this physically close, face to face, for this long, since New York... 

Looking down at Ella, Steve found himself thinking that she really was beautiful. Not drop-dead gorgeous (and deadly) like Peggy, and not as athletic as his other short-lived relationship. But her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and her hair was pulled back in a cascade of curls over her shoulders. Up close, her skin was soft and smooth and warm, and she had deep brown eyes, equally warm. She was wearing a medium-length flowy skirt that swished as she moved, and it accentuated her hips and her grace; the shirt was tight and left nothing to the imagination. Not that that stopped his imagination. 

Steve watched Ella’s smile fade and her look become more serious as she gazed up at him. He wasn't sure what that meant or what she was thinking, but then the instructor told them to do a few steps from that position and then proceeded to start teaching the men how to lead and the women how to follow, and then how to do some simple turns.

There were a few bumps and scuffles, fortunately followed by laughter on both their parts, but Steve started to get the hang of it. Ella said to him that she'd never liked the 'leader-follower' thing but it's just how this particular kind of dancing went. For her part, she seemed to be remembering the steps quite well. Steve thought she'd been a little too modest about her dancing ability.

Then the instructor called for them to change partners again, and he wistfully let her go and turned to the next person, who smiled up brightly at him. Steve still didn't see the characteristic widening of eyes he got when people recognized him, but he also thought that people probably came to these swing nights to meet people. Even being modest, he knew he was desirable, and it stood to reason that there were a number of hopeful partners here. He hated to disappoint, but the reality was that he wasn't here to pick anyone up. He glanced over down the line of dancers at Ella and considered that thought a little more carefully.

The instructor taught them several more turns and complicated moves, and Steve was quite gratified to realize that he was learning quickly, and that his instinct was right: it really wasn't so different from learning different fighting styles. In a way, the give and take of dance partners wasn't so different from sparring. But with the important difference that here you were working with your partner to achieve things that the music asked of you, instead of trying to assert dominance over them through superior strength and dexterity. The music was an important part of that, for him; helped his body remember the difference. And Steve started to see, too, that even though there was the structure of leader and follower, the follower wasn't really subordinate. She still had to want to do what you asked her to do.

They switched partners a few more times and learned a few more steps. Steve started to notice that some of the women were learning the leaders' part. Well, he'd heard things about San Francisco, after all. And there was just the numbers aspect of it... there weren’t enough men here tonight to lead for everyone.

Then suddenly the teaching was over. There was a fifteen-minute break while people got drinks and rested a bit, and he realized that other people had been gathering around the dance floor as the lesson had gone on – people who were here for the dancing but didn't need the teaching set. There were a few more men now, Steve noticed.

He went for a drink, and he found his friends at the bar. "So, now what?" Steve asked.

The two of them looked at each other, and Ella made a bit of a face at her friend. The friend said, "Now... I go find a partner for the first dance, and you two get ready to test out those new skills on the dance floor!" She winked at him and left the bar.

Ella looked back at him and reddened attractively. "Well, in a few minutes they'll start the music and we just do whatever we want." Steve’s stomach flip-flopped momentarily. Following the instructions had turned out to be pretty easy, but dancing without any outside guidance suddenly seemed intimidating again. Ella cleared her throat as they started the music. "If you'd... do me the honor of the first dance?" she said nervously, holding out her hand.

Steve laughed and said, "Of course," taking it. Ella led him back to the dance floor, and they stood at the edge, putting various hands in position. He took a deep breath, listened for the downbeat, and started with just the basic step. It seemed to go fine, so he experimented with giving the lead for a simple turn. Ella immediately followed it, and when she came back they both laughed. "Not so bad, right?" she asked. Steve smiled and said, "No, I think I'm getting the hang of it." The song was pretty slow, and he managed to try out a few more of the more complicated turns they'd learned at the end. Only once or twice did they stumble. Steve worried that he'd stepped on her toes, but when he asked, Ella shook her head.

Then the next song came on. Steve recognized it. "Hey, I know this one!" he said. It was faster than the first, but he could feel the rhythm get into his bones and he set off with Ella around the dance floor at speed. She seemed agreeable to it. In fact, Steve got the feeling that the music was in her bones too, the way she moved. No wonder she liked dancing. Hell, no wonder everyone liked dancing!

Steve hardly noticed as time passed, but then there was a fifteen minute break again and he was surprised to realize that they'd been dancing for an hour. Ella patted him on the arm a little wearily and went to sit down. He joined her, and realized she was quite tired, a bit flushed and sweaty, and breathing a bit quickly. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Ella smiled, nodded, took a gulp of water, and said, "Yeah, I am – I'm just not used to dancing for so long at a stretch." 

"Oh... I'm sorry. You should have said something. We could have stopped sooner..." Steve said, looking down.

Ella laughed. "No, no, I loved it. You're a natural." He looked back up at her, trying to figure out if she was kidding. There was merriment in her eyes and smile, but it felt sincere. Steve thought to himself that he *had* picked it up quickly, but... it was still nice to hear her say it, too.

"Thanks," he said. "You aren't so bad yourself," he added, smiling at her and raising an eyebrow. 

Ella’s smile widened. "Thanks," she said. "I'm glad we did this."

Steve thought for a moment. He *was* glad. It had been intimidating, and he wasn't sure how he'd feel about it later, but he was enjoying himself, and he was happy to have finally learned. So he said, "Yeah, me too. This is a lot of fun."

Ella nodded and laughed. Then she got a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye and said, "You want to go see if the instructor can teach us a few more steps to try out in the second set?" "Sure," he said.

Ella grabbed him by the hand and dragged him back to the dance floor, apparently recovered from the exhaustion of a moment ago. The instructor gladly showed them a few more moves, which, as the second set started, they tried out. 

Several times there were near misses (Ella almost fell once and Steve caught her), but they started to get into a comfortable way of working together to try the things out, sometimes shouting a few words in each others' ears to try something differently next time the right place in the music came around. But more often, their communication was nonverbal and just as effective. Maybe more effective. 

Steve found himself quite pleasantly lost in the music and the movement and the interaction with Ella, and for the time being, could temporarily forget his pain and his losses. To have a break from all that, at least for a while... it was a nice feeling.


	23. Chapter 23

The second dance set passed even more quickly than the first, and Steve was surprised when the music stopped and people started moving tables back onto the dance floor and getting drinks. He and Ella and her friend went and sat at the bar, had some drinks, and chatted. But finally the evening came to an end. 

Laughing and talking, Steve and Ella left the bar and headed to the train. Waiting on the platform at the station, she asked him, "How do you feel now about everything?"

The warm glow Steve felt after an evening spent exploring a new activity (which was way more fun than he expected) faded just a bit. He remembered his sadness about Peggy; he still felt the weird guilt that he was betraying her, because she wasn't even really gone yet. But it was strangely juxtaposed with the good feelings of the evening. At first he felt a little irritated that Ella had brought it up. But then Steve told himself that this was the point of the exercise. To work on moving on. To figure out what he wanted his life to be, now. Not to just be about work, all the time. Not to just be about loss, about what wasn't.

He still missed Peggy. But Steve had to admit that the present offered a lot for him. Dancing was a lot of fun. Peggy would probably have been a fantastic dancer. And maybe in some alternative universe they would have been together, they would have danced, and it would have been like this. But in this universe... things weren't so bad.

Ella was watching him, starting to look a little anxious. Steve smiled at her and said, "I'm still a little... sad, you know? But it was a good night."

She nodded somberly. "I am still sad about the people I've lost. I think sometimes... you'll never not be sad. It just comes in waves, and the waves are smaller and smaller over time."

Steve looked down and nodded too. "Yeah, I see what you mean. But... thank you." He looked back at Ella. She looked sort of sad and wistful. He wasn't sure if it was because she was thinking of those she'd lost, or if she was still comparing herself to some idealized version of Peggy.

Looking at Ella, Steve thought to himself, who knows what happens when I have to go back to work. But... right now, in this moment, my life is feeling pretty good. And a lot of that is because of her.

Impulsively, he took Ella’s hand. She looked surprised and slightly wary. Steve bent and softly kissed it. It was a gallant sort of gesture, but intimate too. Right then, the train pulled into the station, bringing with it a great storm of air from the tunnel behind it. He straightened and saw the look on her face – hopeful, full of desire, vulnerable... and happy. The wind of the train tossed and tumbled her hair as she put her free hand on his forearm, shifting her other hand to gently squeeze his. He smiled at her as the train doors opened. 

They went in and tried to find seats. The train was actually quite crowded, even though it was late. Steve looked around at all the full seats, and then Ella pointed at two across an aisle from each other (sadly, not next to each other). She said to him as they sat, "Looks like an A's game just got out." Steve looked more carefully at the other passengers and identified a preponderance of green and yellow.

He nodded, leaning out across the aisle to talk to her. "Do you watch baseball? I did, back when. Haven't had a lot of time to go to a game, recently, though."

She shook her head. "I don't usually, but my parents like to follow the Giants – so do some of our friends."

Steve laughed and said, "You know, the A's used to be in Philly." Ella exclaimed, "I didn't know that! I knew the Giants were in New York, but I didn't know that about the A's."

He nodded. "And the Dodgers were from Brooklyn." She nodded too. "I knew that... but it didn't occur to me that all our ball teams were from the East Coast. Except the Angels, I guess?"

Steve leaned back a bit. "Yeah. I was pretty sad to find out the Dodgers weren't in New York anymore. Lots of good times with Bucky at those games." Ella suddenly looked alarmed and he couldn't figure out why. Then he remembered he was betraying his cover, if anyone was listening. He took a quick look around, but the train was loud enough and people were either absorbed looking at smartphones and other devices, or talking to each other loudly about the game. (He gathered that the A's had won, and it had been a good game.) If anyone had noticed and put together what he was saying, no one was letting on. "I'll tell you later," he said hastily, and they each settled back into their seats. Maybe he was getting a little too relaxed – losing his instincts. That thought was a little disconcerting.

Eventually they made it back to Ella’s place, discussing baseball and peoples' inattention while riding trains. After getting in the door, pulling off her shoes, and locking the door, she said to him, "Want any tea?"

"Sure. I think the peppermint is nice." Ella smiled and nodded, and went to put the kettle on.

Steve suddenly felt a little awkward again. He sat down and took off his shoes, leaving them close to the door with hers. Ella was humming, in the kitchen, a swing song. Not one they'd danced to... he listened for a minute, and decided it was "It don't mean a thing (If it ain't got that swing)." Steve smiled.

The kettle whistled and Ella set about fixing the tea. Steve watched her and tried to decide what his next move should be. If it were up to him, and he followed his instincts, he would take it slow. But they'd already been intimate... though now, somehow it was different, like they'd started over from the beginning, and they hadn't got that far again yet. And of course, this was the 21st century, so his instincts were always a bit off here. Ella seemed to know what she wanted, or she had that first time, anyway. Maybe he'd just let her lead? Steve smirked a bit, thinking of the dancing metaphor that implied.

Lost in thought, he was startled when Ella said, "Here you go," standing in front of him and holding out his tea. "Thanks," Steve said, smiling up at her. He took the tea, sipped at it. Just right – she'd added a little honey, but not too much. They'd had tea enough over the last week that Ella seemed to have figured out how he liked it.

"So what now?" Steve started to say, while at the same time, she said, "Hey, I was thinking..."

They both laughed awkwardly. Steve said, "You go ahead."

Ella sat down in the other chair, looking a bit uncomfortable. Steve still wasn't sure if it was because she didn't seem to know what to do with her legs when she sat in a real chair – he'd observed that she sat more comfortably cross-legged on the floor – or if it was because neither of them seemed to know how to proceed.

Ella said, "I was thinking maybe we could go to an A's game – they have really cheap tickets on Tuesday afternoons."

Then she seemed to think of something. "Except – at some point here, I'm going to have to have some meetings on campus, and to do some computer work."

Steve said, "That's fine – if you don't mind me staying here while you're out. I can spend time reading – the library is just down the street. I always have a lot to catch up on, you know? And I can walk around town and see things for myself, too, if you need me out of the house."

Ella nodded. Then: "Um... Steve, don't take this the wrong way, but... how long are you here? Do *you* have to get back to work?"

Steve sighed and looked down at his tea. It didn't seem to have any answers; so much for reading tea leaves for inspiration, he thought. Or mint leaves. 

Again, the warm feelings of his vacation with her faded a bit as he considered the problem she had inadvertently reminded him of. Eventually, he said, "I don't know. I took a kind of indefinite leave from my team. I thought I wouldn't be... reliable."

Ella’s eyes widened and she laughed with disbelief. "You thought *you* wouldn't be reliable? How is that even a possibility?" She kept laughing. This was apparently really funny.

A little affronted, he said defensively, "I was just... easily distracted. I kept thinking about Peggy, and about the past, and..." He trailed off, shut up, and looked away. It hurt a little, her disbelief. So much for him being just another person.

Ella stopped laughing as he spoke and started to look slightly panicked. "I... I'm sorry, Steve, I didn't mean… It just seemed so absurd when you said it that way... I know you're grieving. I'm sorry. I... I was just trying to figure out how long you'd be staying here."

Still a little off-put, Steve said, "I can stay someplace else, if you need space." After all, he was imposing on her. Perfectly reasonable for her to want him to go, or to know when he'd go. That part made sense. The thing that surprised him was the hurt and disappointment he felt at the idea of leaving.

Now Ella looked significantly panicked. "No! No, please, I really love having you here. I'm sorry if I said something wrong."

Steve looked over at her, and sighed, and said, "It's okay." It wasn't, quite, but she looked so upset, he figured he should say it anyway. Then a wave of guilt washed over him. He'd been off-duty for so long. He'd been trying to ignore that feeling for the last two weeks, but suddenly it got the better of him. He stood, putting his half-empty mug on the little glass table.

He said a little stiffly, "You know, you're right. I should check in with Natasha, see how they're doing." 

Ella nodded unhappily and sipped at her tea reflexively. Steve hated having to do it – some part of him wanted desperately to stay here, to stay with her... to just live in peace for a while. Wanted very much to return to the warm feelings of a minute ago. But that wasn't his job, and his job was important. He had work that only he could do. It was too selfish to stay. The team had only been working together for a few weeks. He was the one who led them. Surely they needed him, and he'd been gone so long already...

Steve went and dug around in his duffel until he found his smartphone, and then went outside, stuffing his feet into his shoes without bothering to tie them.


	24. Chapter 24

Outside, the evening was cool and the moon was bright, with wisps of fog drifting in every few moments. Steve tapped in a secure but low-priority message to Natasha: "Checking in – do you need me?"

He waited a minute. It would be late in upstate New York at the compound, but Natasha was notorious for sleeping at weird times. If she were really asleep, a low-priority message wouldn't wake her. If he'd set the priority higher, it would have overridden her settings and buzzed her loud enough to get her attention even if she were asleep. They'd carefully designed the system to make sure that people could be contacted when necessary but left alone otherwise. Something Sam had suggested was important. Sam was always better with his work-life boundaries than the rest of them. Maybe because he'd been out so long before Steve had met him and got him involved in the world-saving business again.

Natasha wasn't responding, at least not immediately. Who knew; she could be in the middle of infiltrating some stronghold or another, or interrogating someone; then she would have silenced her phone or wouldn't have it with her. Avengers worked weird hours. Steve looked back at the door to Ella’s. He didn't really want to go back in there right now. Suddenly the happy memories of dancing felt just as distant as his past did. And he couldn't see how to get back there. Here he was, in California, completely out of contact with his team, selfishly being a tourist and taking advantage of a girl who clearly liked him... He did have to admit that he liked her, too, but suddenly it all seemed a little too unreal. His real life was calling. Well, he was calling it. Or trying to, at any rate. At the moment, it wasn't answering.

Steve stuffed the cellphone in his pocket angrily and leaned on the gate to put his shoes on properly. He looked back at the door to Ella’s again, felt another wave of frustrated guilt now made worse by the fact that he'd just walked out and didn't feel like he could go back in. And no answer from Natasha. He felt trapped, guilty of selfishness either way. He turned, opened the gate, and started walking, hoping to clear his head.

Steve picked a direction at random, and it ended up being the uphill direction. The exertion felt good, especially as the hill became steeper. He wasn't winded, and not even tired after all the dancing earlier. But focusing on the pull of muscle and articulation of bone felt simpler than the mess of emotions waiting in the wings. Steve thought to himself that he really needed to start training again, somehow. Not that he'd get out of shape, relative to other people, but it just felt better when he was exercising regularly. Never mind that it meant working a lot harder than most people had to, just to break a sweat. He reached the end of what he supposed passed for a block around here, and turned left at the cross street. 

It was windier than the previous street, with driveways which contorted in strange ways to allow residents to get their cars off the road. As Steve walked, the fog continued to come in, causing the moonlight to wax and wane and the shadows of trees and fences to shift, everything lit bluish by the low light. It was a little eerie, but beautiful. Eventually the road wound up above the first row of houses and he ended up by a one with a large lot, set quite a distance back from its picket fence and attendant hedges. Steve turned and looked back the way he'd come; he wasn't quite high enough to see the city lights below, but he could just barely see the bay and San Francisco glittering on the distant horizon.

He did feel calmer, though no more sure of what to do about anything. His phone vibrated. In reality, it had probably only been a few minutes. But it felt like a lot longer. Steve pulled out the phone, saw that it was indeed Natasha, and slid his thumb across it to answer.

"Hey," she said, in that cool sort of way she always had. "What's up?"

Steve had a moment of intense frustration at how calm she was even when he was so flustered, but held it in. After a moment, he said, "I was just checking in with you to see if you needed me to come back."

Natasha was silent a moment. He could almost see her thinking. Eventually: "Nah, we got this. You stay where you are, as long as you want."

Steve was suspicious. "Really, Nat? Come on, you expect me to believe the team doesn't need me at all?"

She laughed. "Yeah, Steve. We don't always need you. Seriously. You are obviously a huge asset, and your leadership is really valuable to the team. But the training is going well and the things we've been taking care of lately have been within our abilities."

Steve sighed and leaned against the fence for a moment, trying to decide if he felt disappointed that they didn't need him, or relieved. After a moment, relieved won out. "I'm... actually really glad to hear that. Not just because I'm not leaving you all when you need me, but also that you're doing so well working together without me."

"Yep. Sometimes a good test of something you've built is to walk away and see if it falls apart. And we didn't," Natasha said, impetuously.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Though..." she added, "I do have a few research projects you could do. Nothing urgent, just background on some things for the future."

"Sure, send them to me the usual way. I can find a computer to use, I'm sure," Steve said, a bit more eagerly than he expected. The idea of doing something useful was apparently appealing. Research wasn't usually his strong suit, but he and Natasha had discovered that there were some tasks he was good at that he could help with during down time.

"Great." Then a moment went by. Steve wasn't sure if it meant they were done, or if there was something else. He waited.

Then, slyly, Natasha added, "So... who's the girl?" Steve felt his face flush. How did she know? Well, it was Natasha. Even without SHIELD, she was someone who had access to all kinds of information. Of course she was tracking him. Either that or she had intuited that there was someone. Either way, it didn't matter much. Natasha's job was getting information out of people. And she was his friend, so he might as well tell her -- especially because he knew he could count on her to be discreet about it.

Just the same, Steve sighed heavily. It was harder than he expected to admit to her what was going on with Ella. "You've met her, actually," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she was at Tony's in New York a few times, just after the mess in London."

"Hmmm," Natasha hummed. "Oh! You mean Jane's friend? She's cute... nice choice."

Steve felt irritated and pleased at once. He said, "It's not like that," but then he realized maybe it was like that. And then his thoughts turned to Ella and how he'd left so suddenly. If his team didn't need him, maybe he should be getting back there. He started to walk back with some urgency.

Natasha chuckled throatily. "Oh, c'mon, Steve, you deserve a little romance. I admit I didn't expect you to go all the way to California to get it, but you should definitely go for it." Ah, so she did know where he was.

Steve relented as he wound down the steep angles of the street. "Okay, so maybe I am interested." 

"Ha!" 

"But..." he continued.

Natasha broke in. "What do you mean, 'but'? You can't be constantly second guessing yourself on this, Steve."

He shook his head. "No, I mean... I can't stay here in California forever. Eventually the team *will* need me, and then I'll have to go home. This is like... a daydream, wandering around seeing the sights and going to farmer's markets and spending time cooking and playing cards."

"I didn't know you cooked," Natasha said. "I didn't," Steve said sardonically.

She laughed. "Steve, c'mon, you never take vacation. Even if you're feeling... better... " she said delicately, and he realized she meant about his reason for taking a leave of absence in the first place. "You still deserve some time off. You deserve to spend quality time with someone other than the team. You deserve to run around being a tourist. Give yourself a break."

Steve turned the corner and saw Ella’s place at the end of the street. From a distance, he could see that a light was still on inside, but it seemed darker than when he'd left. He started to worry a little. "Okay, okay. I get your point."

"Good. Now go get 'er." Exasperated, Steve tried to think of a response as he strode quickly down the street, but Natasha had already hung up. Wryly, he thought, she does know how to get the last word in, doesn't she?

But then he was at the door of the apartment. It wasn't locked, and he opened the door slowly and went in as quietly as he could.

Ella was sitting in the middle of the floor, against the coffee table, arms wrapped around one of the big pillows. There was an empty glass on the table next to her, and he saw in the kitchen that the bottle of whiskey she said she sometimes had after dinner was out of the cupboard and emptier than it was when she'd given him a taste a few days back. His sense of unease intensified and he quickly took his shoes off and walked over to her. She looked up at him out of wide, wet eyes, and he realized that she'd been crying.

Steve sat next to her on the floor. Unsure of how to break the newly formed ice, he said, "Natasha said they don't need me right now." Ella nodded slowly. "So... I can stay as long as I want." She nodded again, watching him. It was so strange for her not to say anything. Finally, he said, "And I would like to stay – if that's all right with you."

Ella gave a little sob, but then said very softly, "I'm so sorry if I made you think I didn't want you here... I want you to stay. I really want you to stay." She half-swallowed another sob and then looked away. "I thought... you went out and didn't come back... Normally I would tell myself you had your own things to work out, but I just kept thinking I'd said something wrong... I kept thinking I'd driven you away, hurt your feelings... so I drank a little to take the edge off. I... I don't usually do that. I don't want you to think I usually do that. And... then I just felt sadder."

Steve put his hand on hers, on the pillow. "I'm sorry I ran off. I've just... been feeling so guilty about not working. I'm sorry I left you like that."

Ella sniffled. "I just thought... maybe you didn't want to stay. Maybe you didn't like me after all."

"No! No, I do want to stay. I love spending time with you," Steve said earnestly, squeezing her hand. "I do like you," and he realized he'd said it out loud, and paused, thinking about it. "Very much," he added, watching her warily. Ella looked at him, and he held her gaze and tried to guess what she was thinking. She started to cry again, silently, tears trailing down her face. That wasn't exactly the response he'd expected, but he figured she was probably still upset about how the evening had gone, and she was a bit inebriated on top of that. Howard Stark had once said to him that thinking you knew what a woman was thinking was foolish. He'd said it more colorfully, of course, but... well, whatever.

Steve gently took the pillow from Ella and stuck it behind his back, and then gathered her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as if she were a child. Curled up there, she cried a little longer, and then eventually sighed and put her hand on his chest. Eventually, she said, "I'm sorry, I... I just didn't think you would be interested in me, and... and I think I'm in love with you." His pulse quickened. Of course, he'd suspected that, but hearing it was another matter... was it the alcohol? Steve didn't think so, but maybe it would be better to revisit this the next morning. As these thoughts chased one another through his mind, he realized Ella was falling asleep. She said inarticulately, "I didn't mean to... fall for you... but..." she yawned, and then sleepily continued, "you're just so... wonderful..." 

Steve waited to see if there was more, but her breathing slowed to a rhythm which felt like sleep. He sighed, and carefully shifted his weight to stand. He carried Ella to her bed, pulled back the covers, took off her socks and hoodie, and tucked her in. He looked around for her glasses, which she'd apparently taken off while he was out, found them on the coffee table, and knelt to put them on her bedside table.

Kneeling there at the side of the bed, Steve raised a hand to tentatively stroke Ella’s hair away from her face, then leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. He murmured softly, mostly to himself, "It's okay if you're in love with me.... I have feelings for you too." It was strange to admit it to himself, even. It felt a little exhilarating and a little terrifying and a little guilty, all at once. Ah, well. Nothing for it but to move forward. He knew how to do that from all his other life experiences... forging forward even though you didn't know where you were headed.

Steve stood, and set about getting ready for bed. Laying on the pillows, he thought to himself, not that I know what to do with any of this. Natasha was always so glib about these things. Like he could just have a fling with someone, could just date someone, like it was that easy. Still... the compliment was there. Ella thought he was wonderful. Of course, he heard things like that all the time, from people whose lives he'd saved or from rabid fans. But somehow it was different when it was so... personal. Steve sighed and turned over and eventually fell asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Ella woke up feeling a little crappy. The first thing she noticed was that her arms and legs ached, and that her mouth tasted terrible. Had she somehow forgotten to brush her teeth last night?

She stretched and immediately had to flex her left foot hard to stop her calf from seizing up. Why were her legs so stiff? Then memories of the night of dancing came back to her in a flood of warmth. All at once she remembered that Steve was here, and they'd gone dancing, and... then she remembered something about him leaving, and her drinking a couple of shots of whiskey. Ella was a little disgusted with herself, but then she tried to remember... he'd come back? Was that a dream? He'd held her... Had she... had she actually said that she was in love with him? She had been thinking about it a lot lately, finally admitting to herself that she was in fact in love with him, and trying to figure out what to do about it, trying to decide if he was interested in return. So had she dreamt saying it to him or had she actually said it?

Ella sat up quickly, grabbed her glasses and put them on, and looked around the room. No Steve. She looked down and realized she'd slept in her clothes. Ugh. Tentatively she stood, flopping the covers back, and saw her sweater and socks laid neatly at the end of the bed. He'd... put her to bed? She didn't remember that.

As Ella scanned the room, she saw that Steve’s things were still there, and as he usually did, he'd folded up the blankets and arranged the pillows neatly. And on the door there was a note. She walked over and read it.

"Out for a run – be back in a bit," Ella read. How thoughtful. A wave of relief washed over her. Whatever she'd said, or whatever was going on for him, he hadn't left. In a way, the normalness of it all, getting up and finding a note from your guest (or whatever he was to her) was both surreal and calming. Well. Time to brush her teeth and wash off.

Ella had gotten as far as getting dressed and making breakfast when she heard Steve at the door. As he came in and took off his shoes, she saw that he was actually sweaty, glistening in the sunlight that streamed in past him. A wave of intense attraction swept over her, and she tried to focus on the eggs as he shut the door and walked over.

"Morning," Steve said, smiling. "Morning," Ella answered. Then she wasn't sure what to say. He stepped past her to get a glass, filled it, and then downed it in a few gulps – head tipped back, other hand casually resting on the counter. Hydration, Ella thought. Universally important. The sizzle of the eggs caught her attention and she dragged her eyes off of him to tend to them.

Ella watched Steve out of the corner of her eye, rolling the now-empty glass between his hands, slowly. Thinking of what to say?

She broke the silence. "Um... thanks for putting me to bed last night." Steve laughed. "Sure... you were pretty tired."

Ella shook her head. "Not just tired – though that *was* a lot of dancing. Thanks for that too." He smiled and nodded. Ella wavered a bit, and then went on: "I... I really don't want you to think that I drink a lot." 

Steve laughed. "I don't. And I'm sorry I walked off like that." A pause. "I don't want you to think that I do that a lot."

This time Ella laughed. "It's okay. I mean, usually..." she trailed off. Usually? What did she mean? She was about to say something like, 'I can hang out with someone else working out their problems.' But that hadn't been the case with some of her relationships. She was always trying to get the hang of how to have healthy boundaries, and she'd failed miserably with that a few times. And she didn't want to get off on the wrong foot here, with Steve, and... whatever it was that was going on. 

He was waiting for her to finish. "Well, I am working on not letting other peoples' problems be my problems. Not feeling responsible for everyone else's feelings." Steve frowned. Ella added, "I don't mean not caring about how you affect other people... I just mean, taking responsibility for what you're doing and how you're feeling, and being mindful of how others are reacting, but not feeling bad about yourself if they get upset. I... sometimes have a lot of trouble trying to make sure everyone around me is feeling okay, when it's really not on me to do that." He nodded and said, "I think I see what you mean."

"Anyway, I just couldn't stop thinking I'd hurt your feelings, or made you feel like I didn't want you to stay here, or... or made light of how you're feeling about Peggy."

Steve nodded, looking down. "I get that."

Ella added, "But I do want you to stay. As long as you can, I mean. I'll have to work, but... I don't want you to leave."

Steve looked over at her, and for once she thought she read him correctly – relief, pleasure. He still seemed a bit concerned about something, but that seemed minor. He said, "I'd like to stay. Natasha gave me a few research tasks to do, so I can even do a little work."

"That's great," Ella said. She turned off the heat under the eggs and put the spatula down on the spoon rest to the side of the stove. She leaned on the counter and smiled at him.

He went on, "I'll need to borrow a computer, though... or maybe buy a cheap one."

"I have an extra one... it's pretty old... you can try it out and see if it works for you."

"Great – I don't need much, so that might work," Steve said. They stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. The moment stretched on a little awkwardly, and Ella said, "Would you like some eggs?"

"Sure," Steve said. He got a couple of plates down from the shelf, and Ella scraped the eggs onto each of them and got out forks and the salt and pepper. They went and sat at the coffee table and ate, mostly silently. He said, as he finished his eggs, "I do think I'd like to go to an A's game."

Ella nodded, mouth full. She swallowed some and then said around half a mouthful of egg, "I think I'll try to schedule my meetings for Monday, and we can go to the cheap game on Tuesday afternoon." 

"That would be great," Steve said.

Ella swallowed the last of her breakfast and said, "I can get the computer out for you now so you can see if it will work."

"Sure." They stood up and took the dishes to the kitchen. Steve held out his hand for her plate and Ella gave it to him; he proceeded to wash the dishes and the frying pan and put them on the drying rack. Ella grabbed a hand towel and as he washed things, she took them off the rack and dried them and put them away. As he washed the last plate and put it in the rack, she reached for it at the same time and her hand brushed his. This time she didn't try to squash the thrill that ran through her. 

Ella looked up at Steve, and he was watching her. Thinking something similar? She smiled at him a little nervously and picked up the plate and dried it and put it away. 

He dried his hands on another towel and leaned on the counter. "You, ah, said something interesting last night."

Ella laughed nervously. "Oh?" Had she really said it, then, and it hadn't been a dream?

Steve cleared his throat and looked sideways at her, half-smiling. "You said you were in love with me."

Ella’s heart jumped. She stammered, "D-did I?" Why was she so nervous? He'd been giving her signs that he was interested, though he hadn't exactly said as much. And they'd already been intimate, back when. And they'd been talking on and off for more than a year. He was not a stranger. And she was 35! But her heart was pounding, just the same, as if she were a teenager who'd never done this before.

Steve went on, crossing his arms and turning to face her with one hip leaned on the counter, "You did. I...ah, wanted to check that it wasn't the whiskey talking." That last bit he said somewhat delicately.

Ella flushed red. "Oh! Um," she looked down. "I, uh... well, no, it wasn't." She didn't dare look at him. She kept her eyes down and went on, "I... I've been trying to just be your friend, you know? Not get too attached. But... You're..." Ella looked up at him and was surprised to see him looking equal parts serious and eager. "You're so much more than you seem." His look shifted to slightly disappointed or maybe a little confused, and she hastily added, "I mean... you are a hero, right? You're the quintessential good guy. It would be easy to fall for you, and you haven't even saved my life or anything. You must get that all the time. I was trying to keep myself from doing that." Steve nodded, watching her. He looked a bit more hopeful again, smiling slightly.

"But... you're also thoughtful about the world – how it's changed, what it really needs to be a better place. You're smart, you're funny... You're good company, and I enjoy talking with you and being with you. Add that to the part where you save peoples' lives all the time and, uh..." Ella faltered, eyes traveling up and down him as he stood there, thinking of how irrefutably attractive he was. "Um, you're pretty easy on the eyes." Steve glanced away briefly, shrugging a little but still smiling, and then looked back to her. Ella dared to put her hand on his arm – he drew in his breath ever so slightly – and added, "And on the hands..." 

Heart racing, Ella finished, "So, um, yes, I think I have fallen for you. I'm not really sure what to do with that, but... there you go." She started to take her hand away, but Steve stepped close and cupped her shoulder with his other hand.

He said softly, "Thank you. That's very kind." Ella held her breath. He rubbed her shoulder lightly with his thumb as he added, "I feel the same way." Ella stomach flip-flopped. Had he really just said it? She wasn't even thinking about the fact that this was Captain America, but just that this was Steve, someone she had feelings for, and he was telling her he reciprocated them.

"You do?" Ella asked, voice breaking a little.

"I do," Steve said, shifting even closer. "I can't think of anyone I've felt closer to in a long time. And I don't know where this is going to go, but... you're much more than a friend to me."

"Oh," Ella said, voice even smaller. She looked up at him. He was smiling, still, but also looked very serious. She raised a hand, tentatively, and traced the line of his jaw, from ear to chin. Steve closed his eyes as she did it, and when he opened them again, he leaned down to kiss her.

He was much more confident than he'd been the first time, back in New York, but he was also measured, careful. Ella took that as part of his concern for physically overwhelming a partner, and it did nothing to diminish the deep pleasure of the kiss, or of the delightful feeling of him slowly sliding his arms around her. She felt safe, protected, and at the same time his interest in her was plain in the way he touched her, the way he moved. It was a slow kiss, but it spoke of a great deal of restrained passion on both of their parts.

Ella lost track of time, but in reality probably only a few moments had passed. Steve pulled away slowly, and opened his eyes a moment after she did. He smiled down at her. "One request, though?"

"Mm?" Ella said.

"Maybe we can take it a little slower than last time?" Ella laughed, and said, "Well, Tony's not pushing us now. We can take as much time as we need." Steve laughed a little too. At the same time as she agreed that taking it slow seemed like a good idea, a part of her wailed in frustration. Ah, well. Good things come to those who wait, she told herself. 

Trying to distract herself from frustrating thoughts, Ella said, "Come on, let me see if this computer will work for you," and led him back to the living room by the hand. Steve chuckled at her enthusiasm. "What?" Ella said. "If it means you can stay longer, I'm all for it." He pulled her back, held her for a moment, kissing her quickly. It was a delightful novelty for him to just kiss her for the hell of it. "Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it." 

Ella forgot for a moment what she was doing, and just said, "I'm liking where this is going. It's going to be difficult to take it slow..." Steve nodded and laughed, then said, "Computer?"

"Oh, right!" she managed, and set about looking in her closet for the item in question.


	26. Chapter 26

### Part Eight

_  
June 6th, 2015_

_Dear Artemis,_

_Congratulations on your pregnancy! I know you and Andy were really excited to start trying after your wedding last fall. And no, I don’t mean just the ‘trying’ part. ;) I know how important children are to both of you. You know I’m in the same camp. So I’m really happy for you._

_And... I don’t know if I really properly told you how happy I was for you, when you came back from New York and Andy proposed. I think at the time I thought he was just trying to keep you from going off somewhere new again... but now that you’ve been hitched for a while, and I can see how happy you are... I really thought I should say that too. I know you’re good for each other._

_I also wanted to tell you that I don’t know how much I’ll be able to talk for the next little while. I’m trying to keep this on the down-low – I haven’t even told my parents about this – but if you remember that hookup from last year when I stayed with you? Yeah... he’s visiting and it’s kind of turned into a thing. I’m not sure how serious a thing, but... well. I wanted you to know why I wouldn’t probably be calling as much as usual. Please don’t tell anyone about it._

_But you know how much you mean to me. If you need anything, or anything comes up... just let me know._

_Love,_

_Ella  
_

~*~

They went to the swing club again the next week. They were a little late, because Ella needed to drop off some mail. A couple of bills, she said, and a letter to Artemis. 

“You know, it’s funny, seeing you actually mail one of those to someone,” Steve teased her.

He’d thought it was a charming anachronism, when he’d first got a letter from her. But it was part of what had made her feel accessible, to him, he realized. It was an investment of time, her actually physically writing out the words. It communicated a kind of commitment or presence that you just didn’t get from an email or text message.

Ella just stuck her tongue out at him as she turned to drop the mail in the mailbox. That completed, she stood, facing him with her hands on her hips, eyeing him. 

“Captain Rogers, are you teasing me?” she said, tapping her foot.

Steve laughed and held his hands out apologetically. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Ella’s mock-irritation dissolved and she stepped close, putting her arms around his waist. He got a little shivery inside at the way she was looking at him, and he reached down to stroke her cheek. 

Then she said softly, “Shall we get going?” Steve nodded, and they headed to the bar.

They’d only missed the first part of the lesson, and as they worked to catch up, Steve was pleased to realize he'd remembered the steps and most of the moves from the last lesson. And Ella seemed even more excited about dancing with him. When the teaching sets were over and the music started, they tried some of the more advanced moves together, and Steve thought they did even better now that they were... what... dating? Steve thought to himself during the break as he looked at Ella across the table, talking to her friend, I guess I should call her my girlfriend now? They had kissed a fair amount, but he'd always stopped himself before they got too far past that. 

He wasn't sure why; maybe it had to do with facing the reality of it being a real relationship. Going all the way would be... a step that couldn't be undone, not in the context they were in now. And... maybe he was still a little afraid that it might harm their friendship. They hadn't talked about the relationship too much, which was something of a surprise to him. Usually Ella brought those kinds of topics up kind of out of the blue. But in the last week, she'd had to go back to work (some of which involved sitting at her computer and working at home), and he'd started in on the research Natasha had sent him (the old computer worked fine for these purposes). So, he thought, we have been actually busy on other things... but... there was some reluctance to talk about what was happening between them.

Steve was pulled out of his thoughts by the second set starting and Ella grabbing him by the hand and heading for the dance floor. He laughed and followed. It was a lovely evening, and at the end of the night, they left the club, laughing and talking as usual. It wasn't until they were at the end of the block that Steve remembered that he'd left his jacket at the bar. 

"I'll be right back," he said. Ella looked a little uncertain as he turned away and started jogging back. Reaching the door, he pulled it open quickly, darted in to grab his jacket, still hanging over the back of his chair at the table they'd been sitting at, and started to leave again when someone shouted his name.

"Steve!" It was her friend. He'd only danced with one partner tonight, of course, and he felt bad about not really having talked to anyone else all night. So he smiled as she walked up. 

"Are you enjoying the dancing?" she asked. 

"Yeah, thanks. Definitely getting the hang of it," he said. She smiled, and went on, "You know, there are other dance nights here – they do Irish dance on Mondays."

Steve suddenly felt uneasy. He wasn't sure why; this woman was being friendly and not saying anything out of place. But he felt a kind of urgency come over him that he couldn't explain. He cut through her, mid-sentence. "Hey, sorry... I'd love to chat but I've got to get going. Catch up with you later?"

She nodded, mouth still open, looking a little confused. He smiled at her hastily and turned and went out the door.

Steve started to jog up the street to where he'd left Ella. She wasn't there. The unease intensified.

He stopped moving and listened, feeling a kind of calm alertness settle in. Senses heightened for some kind of danger. This felt familiar. This was like work. He hadn't felt this way in quite a while, he thought.

Then Steve heard Ella’s voice, down the cross street. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but she sounded angry and afraid. He moved off in that direction cautiously, listening carefully for any sign of what was going on.

Suddenly, close by, Ella yelled, "I told you to fuck off!" and Steve broke into a run. The calm of a few minutes ago was gone, and he was surprised at the rush of emotion he felt – a feeling of anger (and fear?) that he didn't usually get in this kind of situation. 

Rounding the corner, he saw Ella confronting a young man who was reaching for her arms. A quick look around told him that there were two other individuals, another young man and a young woman, who were behind her in an alley (a dead end), and all of them were doing their best to be menacing. Steve had a moment of pity for them, because he could tell from the way they looked and moved that they really weren't all that fit or well-muscled, and if it came to a fight he'd flatten them in a few seconds. The quick look also told them that there wasn't anyone on the buildings above them. This looked like an attempted mugging, or worse, but nothing more sinister than that.

As Steve stepped into the scene, the kid who was reaching for Ella froze, looking at him. Steve was still holding but not wearing his jacket, and he tossed it casually to the side of the alley, tilting his head to the side to crack his neck a little. He saw their reactions as they sized him up, walking towards them. He knew what he looked like, especially in just a t-shirt and jeans. He played it up as he said, "Didn't anyone teach you any manners? When a lady says she's not interested, you respect that."

The one in front of Ella stepped back hastily as Steve advanced. The other two, he saw out of the corner of his eye, were moving around uncertainly. Trying to decide if they should back up their friend or run away, maybe?

Steve arrived next to Ella and said, "Are you all right?" She nodded wordlessly. He looked back at the one in front of them. "So? Are you going to apologize?" 

The poor guy suddenly got a look of triumph on his face as Steve felt the other two try to grab him from behind, one trying for his neck, the other for his legs. The movement of air that preceded their attack alerted him to their choices, and he easily stepped to the side and ducked as they lunged for him.

He turned to face the two assailants and noted that Ella had backed out of the way and was watching him and all three assailants warily. Got to do this quickly, Steve thought, and swung a precise blow across to the young man who had aimed for his neck, hitting him on the back of the head and knocking him unconscious, and in the same move bringing his shin up to do the same to the young woman aiming for his feet. 

Those two neutralized, Steve turned to see the first one grabbing Ella by the wrist. She swung her free arm down, using her fist as a hammer, and hit him soundly on the forearm; he immediately let go. Steve strode up to them and said, "This is not my preferred way of teaching manners," and then clocked the guy hard enough to knock him out too. "But you've got to go with what works," he finished.

Breathing a little heavily, more from the rush of adrenaline than the exertion, Steve took stock of the situation. All three were still breathing, and each had a welt forming on their head. The one Ella had hit on the forearm had a bruise starting there too. Steve turned to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked her again, gently taking her by the arms. Ella nodded, looking a little tearful. The feeling of anger and fear surged back, making him a little uncomfortable.

Then Ella said, "Are they... going to be all right?" Surprised, Steve replied, "Yes – they're unconscious, and they might have mild concussions, but they should be fine in the end. I didn't hit them that hard." He saw a look of disbelief flit across her face, but she didn't say anything.

"W-what do we do about them now?" she stammered after a moment, looking down at the one she'd hit.

Steve wasn't sure what to do about the way he felt, or entirely sure how Ella felt, but he stroked her hair out of her eyes as he said, "Well, we should call the police."

She suddenly looked panicked. "I... I don't really want to deal with the cops!" Steve was a little confused, but said, "They did attack us. They should be handed over to the authorities. And then they'll get medical attention."

Ella looked uncertain. She walked over to the two who had attacked him. She bent down cautiously to look at them more closely. "They're just kids... " She paused for a long moment, then swallowed hard. “And that one reminds me of Ethan, a little.” 

"Still," Steve said, "They did attack us." Ella still looked doubtful. He went on, "And if we leave them like this, they'll be at risk of some other person coming and taking advantage of them." 

Ella continued to gaze down at them, lying there. "Can't we come up with something else?" It made Steve uneasy, but after a while, he said, "All right, let's put them farther back in the alley, out of sight, out of the wind... hopefully they'll just wake up with terrible headaches after a while." Ella nodded a little dubiously.

So, one at a time, Steve picked them up, carried them back into the alley, found a somewhat clean spot, and laid them there carefully. After he was done, he came back to the entrance to the alley and picked up his jacket. Ella had been silent the entire time. She looked up at him. She still wasn't saying anything.

"Are you okay?" Steve said, yet again. Ella nodded, and then shook her head. "Can we go home now?" she asked. Steve nodded, threw his jacket over a shoulder, and offered her his arm. Ella slid her hands around it a little tentatively, and they started to walk back to the train station. They went the whole way in silence, and Steve started to get worried about it.

Was she all right? Hell, was he all right? He'd felt so... vulnerable, when he thought she was in trouble. So angry at those kids, and afraid that something might happen to her. It was an uncomfortable feeling. In fact, it reminded him a little of how he'd been distracted after going to see Peggy the last time. Though... this hadn't hurt his focus when fighting them (if you could call it that). It had actually sharpened his senses and reflexes. But still, it made him a little nervous. Especially because as they walked, every few times they walked past a cross street, Ella started slightly, and Steve felt the little jab of adrenaline again, even though his senses and instincts told him there wasn't anyone there. He was responding purely to Ella’s fear. It was unsettling.

They reached the station, waited in silence for the train, and got on. They sat together, his arm around her, her nestled into him. After a stop or two, there wasn't anyone else in the train car with them. Eventually Ella said quietly, pensively, "I'm sorry I got so weird back there... I just... the California prison system is really messed up. And... I mean, yeah, they attacked us, but..." She trailed off. Steve waited for her to go on.

“I just... I mean, they actually call it the ‘school-to-prison pipeline,’ because in some neighborhoods, young kids of color... especially young men... It just doesn’t take much to give them a prison record. And... when I was a kid, I never worried about that kind of thing, where I grew up. Not that I can pass as white, really, but... my skin’s lighter, and I was just... never in situations like this. And I... I can’t be part of sending kids to jail.” She fell silent again.

Steve rubbed her arm. "Maybe that’s true, but they did attack us. You have to remember that you were lucky I was there." Ella sat up suddenly, looking over at him, almost angry.

"What?" Steve said. Ella opened her mouth, then closed it, then looked down and shook her head. "I – I mean, you're right. I just... I don't want to be the damsel in distress who needs rescuing." She still looked a little irate.

Steve wasn't sure what to say. Clearly he’d upset her, but what would make things better? Again he flashed back to the first few times he'd talked to Peggy. He'd definitely said or done the wrong thing several times then. At least in this case Ella wouldn't fire a gun at him to prove her point.

But she was either waiting for him to respond, or sitting there getting angrier, or maybe getting more upset about the whole situation. So Steve said, "You actually did really well. You have good instincts. It's just hard when there are more of them than there are of you."

Now when Ella looked over at him, the fear was back again. "You..." she stopped. She looked down, took a deep breath and said, "I've never seen anyone hit someone else before in real life. Just in movies." She looked back at him warily.

"Oh," Steve said. Violence was hard to take, he thought, if you didn't see it all the time. He was pretty used to it, after all. That was also an uncomfortable thought. "I'm... I'm sorry." He stopped and thought back to the fight for a moment. He had gone straight into 'neutralize the threat' mode. Maybe that was overcompensating? But he'd felt the need to stop them decisively. "I... I should have tried to talk to them more, or... maybe we could have pinned them and tied them up. I didn't have to hit them."

Ella said, slowly, "No... don't be sorry. You did save me from something that could have been pretty unpleasant. And you did what seemed like the right thing in the moment. They definitely weren't a threat after you... knocked them out. I just... I mean, I knew you were really good at, um, fighting. But seeing it was... different."

Steve nodded and looked down, not sure what to say. The train slowed down as they came to a station, three stops from theirs. Several people got on, and sat on the other end of the train car. As the doors closed and the train accelerated, motors stirring to life, Ella said to him, "Actually, you're beautiful to watch... even when you're doing terrible things. It's kind of confusing."

Definitely not sure what to say, Steve erred on the side of good manners. "Uh, thank you, I guess?" Ella laughed briefly and said, "You're welcome, I guess." Then they were silent for the rest of the ride and the walk back to Ella’s apartment.

As she unlocked the door and they walked in and started to remove their shoes, Steve said, "You know, I could teach you some moves. So you might be able to handle more than one person, if you ever needed to." Ella looked at him, surprised. "Really, like I said, I think you had good instincts. And it's not a bad thing to know how to defend yourself when you need to."

Ella nodded, leaning down to finish taking her shoes off. "I've actually had just a little self-defense training. I wouldn't mind learning some more. I'll bet you know some good techniques." She smiled at him a bit uncertainly.

Steve smiled back. "Great. We can start working on that soon. Right now I think maybe some tea is a good idea?" Ella smiled, a little more like usual. Good, he thought. He'd gauged that part right. She seemed to like to drink tea when she was a little out of sorts.

So they had tea, mostly in silence, but it wasn't a painful silence like before – more of a tired silence. Then it was time to get ready for bed. They took their turns in the bathroom, and when he headed for the pillows by the wall, Ella said, "Um... Steve?"

"Yes?" Steve turned to look at her. "Would you mind... keeping me company here?" Ella patted the bed tentatively.

They had continued with the sleeping arrangements from before, as per his request to take things slowly. Steve wasn't sure what exactly Ella was proposing, and even in his somewhat overwhelmed state from all the events of the evening, he felt his pulse quicken a little.

He walked over and sat down next to Ella on the bed. She said, "I... uh, I think I might have trouble getting to sleep. Do you... do you think you could.... hold me?" The last part she said sheepishly. Steve flushed a little, and said, "Uh, sure."

They climbed awkwardly into the bed, Ella first, sliding over to the side of the bed next to the wall. Steve wasn't sure exactly what she meant for him to do, so he waited, sitting there with the covers over his lap. She said, "Could you sleep on your side and spoon me?"

"Oh," Steve said. "Sure." He slid down in the bed and turned on his side and scooched up next to Ella. He stuck one of his arms under the pillow, and the other he snaked around her middle. Ella scooched back into him and he tucked his knees up behind hers. After all the adjusting was done, Steve could feel that she was shivering. The whole thing *was* affecting her, which made sense, of course. Violence was hard to take, and she wasn't used to it. Steve stroked her arm slowly and eventually she stopped shaking. At length, her breathing slowed, and she went heavy against him. 

Steve lay there, thinking about her, realizing that he was becoming quite attached to her. This relationship was becoming a real thing. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. It seemed like it could be a liability, but... on the other hand, it hadn't hurt his ability to think on his feet in that moment. Not like the grief had made it hard to think. Was it a bad thing to be attached to someone? Maybe not?

Steve tightened his arms around her slightly, and Ella murmured a happy "mm" sound. Yeah, maybe it wasn't so bad... After a while, he felt himself fall asleep too.


	27. Chapter 27

A month later, Ella stood, out of breath, facing Steve with her hands up in a sparring position. She had just escaped him restraining her, and as she waited, he swung back around to face her. He’d insisted that they practice every day for short periods, to get the muscle memory ingrained properly. They’d been successfully making time for it most days of the week, fitting it in between her meetings and research. And Steve’s; he’d actually missed the last several days, out of the house to follow up on something for most of the day, and home late. Ella didn’t ask for any details, of course. But Steve had insisted on a longer sparring session today, to make up for it.

"Good – Good. Well done." Steve moved from a 'ready' position back to a relaxed standing position. Ella panted and put her hands on her knees and dropped her head down to get her breath back. At length, she raised her head to look at him. He wasn't even winded even though they'd been at this for an hour, which wasn't surprising, given who he was. Ella shook her head, "I still don't know if I would remember that in an emergency."

All at once Steve was at her side, grabbing her arm; tired as she was, Ella’s heartrate surged and she immediately stepped back to put him off balance, dropping down slightly, and he stumbled a little; she twisted her arm towards his thumb and forefinger and tore it free. She'd have a bruise there later, she thought. But he'd proven his point. 

Steve smiled at her and said, "You’ll remember." Ella smiled back a little weakly, waiting for the adrenaline to fade and her pounding heart to slow. She knew he was holding back, which was by itself a little unnerving, but she also knew he was trying to show her the things that would be helpful against more typical opponents.

As Ella’s breathing returned to normal again, she said, "Thanks, Steve." "It's nothing," he said. "No, really, thank you," Ella insisted, shaking her head. "You're right – I actually do feel like I might do the right thing in a crisis."

Steve stuck out his hand, suddenly all formality. "I think so, too. Congratulations for having graduated from the Rogers school of self defense." Ella laughed and took his hand, and he shook it firmly, smiling. They stood there for a moment, and even though the adrenaline of the training was fading, as Ella gazed up at him, her heart started to beat faster all over again. Though Steve hadn't broken a sweat working with her today, there was a kind of energy about him that he didn't have when they were just talking. It was the same energy he had when they were dancing. Ella was struck by how gorgeous and confident and humble he was, how incredibly quick and strong and generous.

She, on the other hand, was slick with sweat, hair sticking to her neck and face. She couldn't have looked that good. But as Ella looked up at Steve, she watched his expression shift from affable and congratulatory to intense and full of desire. He stepped closer to her and with his free hand stroked a few stray hairs back from her eyes. Ella let go of his hand and tentatively slid her other hand up to his elbow. Steve hooked that arm around the small of her back, and slowly, equally tentatively, bent down to kiss her.

As their bodies shifted into contact, Ella felt chills go running all over her skin. It was a good kiss – deep, soft, lingering, speculative. They'd kissed a fair amount, but she had tried not to go any further, trying to respect his request to take it slow. But this kiss felt different. Was he feeling ready? Ella slid her hands around his waist and up his back, feeling each muscle tense and shift as he moved. At length, they broke away from each other. Steve opened his eyes and looked down at Ella, and asked softly, "Would you like to?" He didn't really finish the sentence, but it was pretty clear what they were both thinking of. Ella’s heart pounded. She had been wanting this for longer that she might care to admit. She nodded breathlessly, and they stepped back to the bed.

As they sank down onto the comforter, which was in a pile after she'd gotten up that morning, he laid partly back on it, and Ella laid along his side, leg crooked up. She slid her hand up Steve’s chest and around the back of his neck, spreading her fingers along the back of his skull and moving her body up to lean forward and kiss him again. As she rested her whole length against him, he slid one hand up the middle of her back and the other up her side, moving slowly and gently to stroke her breast and cup it softly. Ella moaned and slid her mouth off his and nibbled her way down his cheek... then jaw... then settled at his neck, kissing and sucking and lightly licking. She felt his cock stiffen a little against her leg where she had draped it over his. Steve let out a little "ohh" of pleasure as she lightly used her teeth on his neck. Then he gently squeezed her breast, palming the hardening nipple. Ella moaned into his neck, feeling a hot spurt of wetness jet inside her and start to ooze out and dampen her underwear.

Ella leaned up and back and reached down, crossed arms, to pull off her exercise shirt and bra in one big tangle. As she tossed them aside and looked down at him again, he slid his hands up her body, still a little slippery with sweat from their training session, and pulled her gently down to him. Ella sank her pelvis down onto his, and Steve murmured a little 'mmm' sound as she leaned forward to kiss him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as he opened it. He moaned and reached into her mouth with his tongue, and again brought a hand around to her front and palmed her breast. He kissed his way from her mouth, down to her chin, her neck, and then to her breast, adjusting his grip on it to take the nipple in his mouth.

As he sucked, first gently, then harder, Ella felt both nipples harden. Involuntarily, she clenched her pelvic floor muscles, and then cried out, unable -- and unwilling, frankly -- to stop the orgasm from coming. She'd been waiting for so long for him to want it, and she was so attracted to him, that it didn't take much stimulation for her to tip over the edge. After the wave of pleasure receded, Ella looked down at Steve. He was smiling up at her. "Thank you..." she breathed. He nodded and ran his hands over her back, a tender gesture which smoothly transitioned into insistence as he pulled Ella down to him and kissed her urgently. She wrapped her arms around him and he shifted to the side until he was on top of her.

Ella hiked her legs up around his hips as he dropped them towards her pubic bone. She moaned again as his cock pressed against her vulva. It was very, very hard, and the pressure felt so good amid the still-fading sensations of orgasm.

Ella reached for the edge of Steve’s shirt and pulled it up; he helped get it over his head. She ran her hands up his chest, watching and feeling muscles shift as he tossed it aside and sank back down onto her. He shifted and began rubbing against her; Ella felt the tingles of an orgasm start and turned her pelvis further up, squeezing him with her legs, and moaned loudly as it swept over her again. He moaned a bit, too, and this time when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he looked quite intent. Ready. Ella pushed gently at Steve’s chest, smiling, and he climbed off of her. She reached over to her bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a condom. Steve laughed a bit at her preparedness as she handed it to him. He undid his pants, pulling everything down to his feet. He kicked it all off to the side of the bed and leaned down to put the condom on, as Ella peeled her exercise pants off and threw the covers aside.

She laid down on her back, naked, feeling the softness of the flannel sheet against her skin. Steve finished getting the condom on and turned to her, drawing in his breath as he looked her up and down. Ella crooked a finger at him and held her arms out.

He came to her, kneeling to the side of the bed for a moment and bending down to set his mouth on her nipple again (the other one, this time). She moaned as he ran his tongue over it and flicked it lightly, and then moaned again, more urgently, as he slid his hand over to her other breast and squeezed it gently.

After a few minutes of this, Ella felt close again, and pulled his head up to hers and kissed him deeply. As Steve climbed back up onto the bed, Ella shifted her legs around, guiding him back between them.

As Ella kissed him, she reached down with one hand and found his cock, unbelievably hard, and carefully guided the tip into her wet vulva. Steve moaned again, and then again, louder, as she slowly worked her pelvis up towards his, pulling him inside her.

Ella took her hand away as she wrapped first her arms and then her legs around Steve, bringing her knees up high. He started to thrust inside her and she came again. He slowed down a bit after she finished (how had he gotten so good at this? Ella thought fleetingly, but then he started to thrust again and she lost track of the thought.)

This time, Ella could feel him harden impossibly further, and he started to moan in a way she recognized from the first time (strangely specific memories seem to surface at the weirdest times). Ella tightened her muscles and tilted her pelvis so the base of his cock pressed into her in just the right way, and as he came, she came too. 

They lay there for a while, quietly. At length, Steve kissed her and levered himself up and then to the side, flopping somewhat ungracefully next to her on the bed. He reached for a tissue, removing the now-spent condom. Ella heaved an extremely satisfied sigh and stretched her arms above her head. "Thank you," she said. Steve looked over at her a little blurrily and said, "You're welcome. Thank *you*." Ella laughed and stroked his arm as he laid there. "I'm glad you felt it was time," she added. Steve closed his eyes and nodded against the pillow. "Me too."

As Ella thought about it, she hadn't noticed whether he'd been holding back, but he hadn't accidentally hurt her, so she decided it didn't matter. "You know, you got really good at this," Ella said to him. Steve chuckled softly and said, "Thanks. Actually, you deserve the credit for that."

"Oh?" Ella said, mystified. They'd only done it the once, a year and a half ago, and hadn't talked about it directly since then.

"Well, I did have a few other... experiences, since the last time. But really the thing to thank is that book you have."

Ella was momentarily confused, but then remembered she had an excellent sex manual on her shelf. And Steve *had* been reading random things while she had been at work... "Oh, you mean the Guide to Getting it On?"

He laughed. "Yeah. It's quite informative. I was just trying to follow instructions." Ella laughed. "It's really comprehensive," she said, "I wish I could have read it when I was younger." "Yeah," Steve agreed. "I learned a lot from reading manuals about combat and strategy, before ever doing it myself." Then he snorted. "Not that we had manuals on sex like this when I was younger. Or that I would have had much use for them at the time." He chuckled, and Ella joined him, finding that she didn't feel too weird about the generational differences in their childhoods at this particular moment. Then Steve closed his eyes and they were silent for a while. 

Eventually Ella said, "So... I don't think you hurt me, but you were definitely enjoying yourself – I hope you didn't hold back too much?" He shook his head, eyes still closed. "No. I ... uh... practiced on my own, controlling it so I knew I wouldn't hurt anyone." 

"Well, you did good," Ella said. He laughed, opening his eyes and turning to look at her. She snuggled up next to Steve and he gave her a squeeze. 

He said, gazing at her, "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"No, thank you!" Ella said, and then had a thought and laughed. "Are you familiar with the concept of the live-in S.O.?"

"S.O.?" Steve repeated, laughing. New term? "Significant other," Ella clarified. 

He got serious. Apparently he did know the term. "Am I?"

Ella caught her breath at the look in his eyes. "Um... are you?"

Steve brought up a hand and slowly ran his fingers down her side, stroking the soft skin on her inner forearm, looking her over. "I guess I am," he said, and leaned over and kissed her.


	28. Chapter 28

Steve’s research slowly developed into short solo missions, over the course of a month or so. Natasha’s requests increasingly meant that he had to travel some distance to check out leads, and a couple of times he had to camp out somewhere overnight. The first time that happened, after he told Ella he'd had to sleep on the ground, she'd insisted that he borrow her sleeping bag from then on. And, in fact, inspired by the situation, Ella had also insisted that they should go camping together. She said he needed to go see the local national parks, the ones near the bay area. Steve had agreed affably. He’d enjoyed seeing the national parks on the way to California, months ago now. The thought of how long he had been staying with her was itself strange, of course, but it bothered him less now that he was gathering useful intel for the team.

So they made a list of national parks to visit. They started with Point Reyes National Seashore. Ella said that all the kids at her school had gone to camp there for a week in fourth grade... they called it “Outdoor Education,” and all the schools did it back when she was a kid. She looked nostalgic and almost a little tender, when she was telling him about it. He had asked if she had good memories of it... Ella had responded that the place was great, though some of the hiking had been scary back when she was little. She said she hadn’t done a lot of hiking when she was very small. She told him that was why she wanted to make sure to take her kids camping and hiking as soon as they could walk. The mention of kids made him slightly nervous, but he pushed that out of his mind.

They rode Steve’s motorcyle out to Marin county and stayed at the Point Reyes youth hostel. Ella said it was right next to the place she’d stayed in fourth grade. The next day, they went to the National Seashore visitor’s center and walked out to the coast and back, eating lunch at the coast camp picnic area, and generally taking their time to enjoy the scenery. Walking along the trail by the creek running out to the sea was refreshingly cool – the weather had gotten noticeably hotter since he’d been in California. Steve was more used to humid heat, growing up in New York. Of course he’d been all over the world and experienced a huge range of weather conditions. But he hadn’t lived in most of those places. It was a little different when you were living in an in-law unit with no air conditioning and the weather got hot for several days in a row. Ella said a lot of places in towns right on the bay – especially older buildings – didn’t have AC because it wasn’t needed for most of the year, and when the buildings were built, it was consistently cooler. Some nights they just laid on the bed with fans blowing on them. Ella didn’t sleep well on those nights.

But she was still insistent that he see the other Californian national parks. Steve requested Yosemite, and Ella said, “August isn’t the best time of year to go, because there won’t be much in the way of waterfalls. And it’ll be even hotter there than here. But you really do need to see it.” Steve had nodded, and they’d agreed to go there next.

Ella told him they'd need to drive some distance to get there, crossing the Central Valley and then driving up into the Sierra Nevada. Even though she'd gotten a little more used to riding on the motorcycle, Steve suggested maybe they could rent a car for the trip. After all, they needed to bring camping gear with them, too. Ella told him that you only have to be over 25 to rent a car, and she'd done it all the time to go on road trips.

"Just... one thing, though?" Steve asked as they discussed it.

"What?" she answered.

"Do you mind renting the car? I can pay you back for it, since you've been buying all the food. It's just..." he hesitated. He didn't quite want to admit why.

"Sure, no problem, but why?"

Steve sighed. "Well, they'll look at my driver's license. And it kind of says 1918 on it." Ella laughed and came to him, threading her arms around his sides. Steve linked his hands behind the small of her back, and she leaned into them and looked up at him. "Sure, I can rent the car, no problem," she said.

Ella reached up and traced the line of his jaw, just behind where he'd trimmed the facial hair. Smiling. And then, more soberly, she traced a scar on his cheek. Steve hadn't told her it was from Bucky, the last time he'd ... seen ... him. The scar was very faded, only a very fine, faint line... he'd eventually healed up after that last fight at the Triskelion in D.C. The serum did its job. Except somehow it was like it knew he didn't want to forget, want his body to forget, and in the right light, you could still just barely make out the scar. So many other scars from so many other battles didn't show at all. 

Ella stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, just inside the arc of the scar. Steve closed his eyes. It felt like a kind of unspoken sympathy. Even if she didn't know... she knew, somehow, on some level. He felt tears well a little behind his closed eyes, thinking of Bucky, but he willed them away. Someday, somehow, he'd find his friend again. Ella sank back down onto her feet and hugged him close, tucking her head partly under his chin. Steve unthreaded his fingers and stroked her hair for a moment, tightening his other arm around her. Somehow, though he really didn’t know what the long-term situation was going to be with her, in moments like this it felt so simple. She gave him comfort. He apparently gave her comfort. They talked, they made love, they cooked food, they went walking, they went dancing. Apparently, they went camping, now. Could he keep this up, if we went back to Avenging full-time? He’d had the thought, off and on, and still had no answer to that question. 

But. It didn’t need to be solved right now. Steve gave Ella a squeeze, and let her go. She smiled up at him, and said, "I'll go reserve the car."

It was a week later when they managed to get up to Yosemite. Ella drove; at first she seemed nervous with him in the passenger seat, self-conscious, maybe. Steve tried not to react if she cut anything too close, but overall she was a reasonable driver so it wasn't too hard. And she seemed to relax after they got out of the Bay Area's maze of freeways and started to cross the Central Valley on country roads. 

Steve had leaned the seat back a little, trying to get comfortable for the long-ish ride. He still preferred the motorcycle; cars felt too confining, and not maneuverable enough. But he tried to make himself watch the scenery as it flew by – a luxury he didn’t get when he was driving. It was hot out there in the Valley, hotter than it was at home, so he did feel grateful for the air conditioning. The landscape, after they got out of the Bay Area proper, was surprisingly flat and agricultural relative to all the other places they'd been recently. Steve watched as the fields alternated between different-looking crops, and sometimes orchards of various kinds.

Ella had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last half hour. The driving seemed easy enough, so Steve broke the silence, "So, what do they grow out here?" Ella usually knew something about everything.

"Hmm, what *do* they grow out here," Ella murmured, apparently considering the question. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel for a bit and then said, "Well, it depends on what you mean by 'out here'... I mean, all throughout the Central Valley they grow all sorts of things. All throughout California there are something like four hundred different commercial crops. But right around here? I'm not that good at identifying what these are. We definitely passed some almond orchards earlier. Those are kind of controversial when there's a drought because they take a lot of water, and people can't plant cover crops between the trees to conserve water and soil, because they harvest the nuts right off the ground."

"Huh," Steve said.

"And that off to the left, looks like corn. Probably not as much as in the Midwest, but we do grow some corn here." She pointed at a field across the way, and he saw tall grassy-looking plants, starting to look pretty dry in the hot weather. As he looked more carefully, he saw the signature shapes of corn stalks and could even make out some ripening ears. 

Ella went on: "In October, sometimes, for Halloween, you know, they make corn mazes, and you can pay to go wander around them and try to get out. Sometimes they have costumed people in there to jump out and scare you. I never liked that part. But it has been really cool to go running around those things on a full moon in October.” She paused, then asked, “Did they have those when you were young?"

Steve shook his head. "No, but I've heard of hedge mazes. It sounds a little like that." Ella nodded. "Yeah, like a temporary hedge maze." They were silent for a while, and then the directions got a bit more complicated as they reached the hills on the other side of the valley. 

Turning onto a windier road, Ella said, "We crossed the central valley the short way, here, east-west. It's much longer north-south." "Mm-hm," Steve acknowledged. He didn't say very much more, then, because the road demanded Ella’s attention, and though she seemed to be pretty comfortable (maybe even enjoying herself), she did seem pretty focused. 

Steve saw how the hills started out like the ones they'd come from on the other side of the valley – rounded, rolling, and mostly bare, with a pelt of golden-yellow dead grass, and the occasional green tree scattered throughout. Ella had told him, on a hike in the hills last week, that her father liked to wax poetic about the landscape. She said he called the trees on those hills "verdant punctuation in a sea of times gone by." Steve had never been much for poetry, but now that he was seeing more of the hills laid out in front of him, he had to agree that the phrase seemed apt. 

He felt a moment of guilt for still not having met Ella’s parents. He knew she was close with them, and though she’d told him that they trusted her – that as long as they felt she was happy, they wouldn’t pry into her life – he still felt maybe he ought to have met them by now. That’s what you did with your girlfriend, right? If you were serious, anyway. And they sort of were? Though... he didn’t have any family for her to meet. Except maybe the other Avengers, and Ella actually had met some of them already. The whole idea of parents and families suddenly made him uncomfortable and he shoved the thoughts away, focusing again on the scenery.

As the road climbed up through the hills, the canyons revealed themselves to have more trees, and different kinds of trees, than the hills. Every so often Ella would call one out as they passed. Bay laurel, which she said was related to the leaves that go into some soups and spaghetti sauces, and coast live oak, and sycamore, and big-leaf maple, and buckeye. Steve tried not not to accidentally mishear that last one. He watched the world spin by as they wound through the hills. And then they reached what Ella called "the old priest grade." 

"This is going to be really windy," she said. Steve raised his eyebrows – he'd been to many mountains all over the world and on extremely windy roads in the Alps specificaly. He remained silent and waited to see what she could possibly mean.

But the road up into Yosemite was actually respectably windy. Ella handled the car pretty well, and Steve saw the trees give way to bare rocks in some places, and saw that the kinds of trees were different now – conifers, Ella said. They didn't have so many of those where he'd grown up, but of course he'd seen places like this in Europe during the war. And with the Avengers, he'd been lots of places with lots of different kinds of forests. But this was a little different... again, for a change, he wasn't watching and thinking of it as a battlefield, wasn't thinking about the kinds of trees from the standpoint of cover and maneuverability. That was still a little strange for him, but nice.

And then they came through a tunnel and out to a look-out spot, and there was the Yosemite valley. It was remarkable. Steve had seen some pretty incredible things on his trip out here, and in other places in the world. But this wasn't anything to shake a stick at. The sheer walls were nearly vertical, and the canyon wound on for quite some distance. Back where they were, at the mouth of the tunnel, the canyon walls were quite wide apart, but it was clear that the valley eventually narrowed. And there were iconic shapes, things he'd seen in pictures: the blunt nose of El Capitan, on the left, and the distinctive face of Half-Dome on the right, further in the distance.

"Well, that's sure something," Steve said softly. Ella smiled and laughed, and pulled up into a parking spot and turned the engine off. "Want to take a look?" she asked. Steve nodded, and they unbuckled and climbed out of the car.

They stood together, looking out over the vast space between them and the other side of the valley. Silent for a while, but eventually Ella said, "Yosemite Falls is farther up that way," and she pointed, "and Bridalveil falls is here on the right." He looked where she pointed, and could barely make out what could be a waterfall. "And Vernal falls and Nevada falls are further up on the right side of the valley, too." He nodded. She added: "Of course, it's summer now, so there's not much water coming down in the waterfalls anymore." That was certainly true.

They stood for a while longer. Steve started to feel a sense of unease he couldn't quite place, as he looked out at the cliffs. Eventually he realized what it was: the last time he'd seen mountains like these up close, it had been in Sokovia. The thought of what had happened there... even though they'd been able to stop Ultron, the damage had been... extensive.

Ella put a hand on his arm, asking, "Steve? Are you okay? What are you thinking about? Remember... you can tell me, right?" He realized she was getting pretty good at picking up when he wasn’t all right. That was both reassuring and unnerving. He thought he usually did a pretty good job of keeping his problems to himself.

Steve sighed and looked away from the vista, down into Ella’s worried (and yet somehow comforting) face. He realized he could tell her what he was thinking. In fact, being able to talk to her was what had drawn them together from the start, and what had brought him out here to California. So there was really no reason to hold back. "Well, I was just thinking about Sokovia." "Oh," Ella said. "What about it?" she asked.

Steve put his hands in his pockets. "We stopped Ultron. But... there was still so much collateral damage." He paused and looked out at the vista again. How could he explain? "We couldn't stay, to help rebuild the city. We never stay long enough. Tony has... people, he brings in, to help. But I always feel like it should be us... like, we broke it, we should help fix it."

Ella looked out, too. "Well... could you stay, in the future?" Steve shook his head, looking down again. "No, I don't think so. First of all, there's always another emergency we have to go take care of. And... people don't always see us as saving them, and they don't want us around. Sometimes they think we brought the trouble. And... in the case of Sokovia, we definitely did. I mean, it was Tony, that time, no question. But why did Loki come to Earth? Why was the Tessaract here in the first place? The Asgardians have been coming here for a long time. Thor said, back when Loki was here and we were trying to find the Tessaract, that we were sending a signal to the universe that Earth was ready for a higher form of war."

Ella looked worried. Steve tried to downplay it, reassure her. "I don't know what he meant. But I do see how sometimes bad things happen and we show up to fix them, and sometimes it's not clear if it might not be the other way around."

Then he sighed in frustration. "But... still, what *should* we do? Not defend Earth? Not defend the powerless? That idea doesn't agree with me. It's... it's a cop-out."

Ella gave his arm a squeeze. "I see what you're saying. Maybe there's some way you can find to show people that you care about what happens even when your are busy stopping the bad guys from doing what they're doing."

"Maybe," Steve said doubtfully.

Ella reached up and pulled him down to her, kissing his cheek. "I believe that you are trying to help. We don't have to solve that problem right this second. Shall we go down into the valley?" Reluctantly, Steve agreed. He really wasn't sure what the solution could be. But they'd driven all this way -- it was a waste of time to wallow in these problems when there was such a magnificent place awaiting them, to be explored. So, he let himself be led back into the car, and on into the valley and the day Ella had planned out for them.


	29. Chapter 29

They spent the day wandering around the valley floor, hiking up a little ways towards various waterfalls, but taking it easy because the weather was so warm. At one point, they stopped to have lunch in the meadow across from El Capitan. If she looked carefully, Ella could see the minuscule shapes of climbers, ascending the face of the rock. She pointed them out to Steve.

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s pretty crazy. I’ve climbed some stuff like that, as part of missions, but doing it for fun... that’s really something else.”

Ella nodded at him. It was still strange for him to mention work in an offhand way like that. He’d actually started to be gone for short periods, probably on missions in fact, though she specifically didn’t ask him about them. Even if he was only Avenging part time at the moment... that was was who he was. She had to get used to it, if she wanted to be with him. Just the same, she looked for something to say to steer the conversation away from that particular angle.

She came up with: “You know, I read that the current speed record for the route up El Cap that they call ‘the Nose’ is just under two and a half hours.” 

Steve looked at her in surprise. “That’s nuts,” he said. Ella said, “I’ll bet you could probably climb it that fast, but these guys weren’t super-soldiers.” Steve chuckled at her and nodded. Ella added, “And the crazy thing is, one of them isn’t any spring chicken: Hans Florine, he was almost 50 when he did that. His partner, though, Alex Honnold, was only in his mid-twenties at the time, if I remember right. It... makes me wonder what his parents think about him doing crazy things.”

Steve took a bite of his sandwich. “Well, I figure they must be used to it. You don’t do something like that without a lot of practice. I’ll bet his family has had to get over it because he’s been doing crazy things for years.”

Ella sighed. “Well, sure, but... I guess, I just think I’d be going nuts if that were my kid. I want my kids to be outdoorsy, right? But hopefully not that crazy.”

Steve looked at her sideways. “Do you think you can stop them?” His tone of voice was half teasing, half reproving.

Ella looked back at him. She sighed again. “I suppose not. I think I’d want my kids to be happy, and if doing crazy things was what they needed to do to be happy... I guess I’d support them in doing it. I just... hope that’s not what ends up happening.” She smiled at Steve, hoping to re-connect, but he still had a kind of faraway look in his eyes as he chewed.

Ella took a drink out of her water bottle and said, “Wouldn’t you want your kids to be safe?”

Steve swallowed slowly. “I... well, yeah.” He stopped, clearly in the middle of a thought. “What is it?” Ella asked.

Steve sighed and leaned back on his hands. “Well... I guess I never really thought about whether I wanted kids. It’s never really come up. I hadn’t thought past the end of the war, back when... and now, I just... well, you know how my life is. But... if I *did* have them, then yeah, I’d want them to be safe, but I think you’re right. I’d want them to be happy, first. Because... I guess it’s a little pessimistic, but really life’s never safe.”

Ella was silent for a while, then got out her sandwich and started to eat it. It was a little bit of a scary thought, but he was probably right. She knew she very much wanted kids someday... but she'd have to face the fact that you can't keep them safe forever or from everything. Her mind wandered around the topic for a while, and at length she said idly to Steve, “If you had kids, what would you name them?”

He looked at her, clearly thinking it over. “I think I’d want to name them after my parents. Sarah, for a girl, and Joseph, for a boy.”

Ella smiled at him and said, “That’s lovely. I can’t ever decide what I’d want to name them. In some cultures they don’t name the child until after it’s born... I’ve thought maybe I would just wait until I met the baby before I picked a name. Though maybe that’s just laziness?”

Steve laughed. “Well, whatever works.” That seemed to be the end of the conversation, and the end of lunch, as Ella finished her sandwich and they got up to keep walking around the valley.

That night, they lay in the tent, gazing up through the fine mesh at the stars and the moon. Well, Ella was gazing at the stars and the moon. She looked over at Steve, and he was looking up at the stars, but she didn't know what he was thinking. She tightened her arm, wrapped around him, in a quick squeeze. Steve squeezed her back, but still seemed lost in thought. Ella stroked his arm, feeling the curve of each muscle as her hand traveled, and wondered about how it must have felt to go from skinny and weak to super-strong in a matter of seconds.

"Did it hurt?" Ella asked him softly, shifting to run her fingers down his chest, tracing abstract shapes as they went.

"Did what hurt?" he answered.

"The serum – the transformation." They were close enough now that it didn't seem like too personal of a question to ask, though Ella usually tried not to be quite so direct about it. The question had kind of slipped out, an idle thought when there was nothing else to do. 

"Mmmm," Steve said, and shifted to put his other arm around her, turning on his side. Ella turned onto her back and hooked her legs over his knees. "Yeah, it did," he said finally. "When they injected it, it didn't hurt much, but when they closed up the machine and shone the vita-rays on me... then it all kind of happened at once."

"Oh," Ella said. She wasn't sure how to respond. "I'm sorry it hurt," she said lamely, trying not to look at his face, so close to her.

Steve gave a short laugh and tucked her head under his chin. "Thanks, but as you can see, it worked out okay for me." They were both silent for a while after that. Ella was thinking about whether it had actually worked out okay for him. He'd said many times that he didn't regret it, no matter what else had happened. But still, it was an interesting question. Somewhat academic, she guessed, but important anyway, to know he didn't regret it.

Ella shifted and glanced up at him, seeing that the furrow had appeared between his eyebrows. Maybe he was thinking otherwise? She decided to ask. "Penny for your thoughts?" she said, smiling, remembering him saying it to her, back in D.C.

Steve chuckled, and the furrow disappeared. He smiled at her, and said, "Okay, I have a question for you, and you have to *promise* to be honest with me." Ella wasn't sure what to make of this, but said, "Of course."

"So... would you have been... interested... in me, if I didn't look like this?" he said, and then waited. Ella was taken aback for a moment. What was the right answer to that question? She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but it was so hard to imagine him any other way. Honesty, then?

"Well... it's hard to imagine what you were like, before," Ella said. "You're avoiding the question," Steve teased. She looked back at him and while he was still faintly smiling, he looked serious.

Ella shifted away and sat up, looking down at him critically. Yes, he was gorgeous. He was strong, he made her feel safe, and he was eminently capable in so many ways. But... he was also funny, sweet, and intelligent. It raised a related question.

She tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek on her hand, and said, "Okay, I promise, I'm really not avoiding the question here, but... how much did your personality change? Because... you know I appreciate how you look and feel," Ella stroked his leg with her free hand, and Steve smiled, "But I also really enjoy spending time with you. How much of who you are is because of the serum... and how much is just because you are you? And how much is because of your experiences which are because of the serum?"

"Oh, I see how it is. Throwing it back on me? Making it a philosophical question?" Steve chuckled. Ella mock-punched him in the leg. "No, really, Steve, I mean... if you were sweet and funny and smart then, too, I would still have been interested in you, even if you didn't look like this. I've dated guys who were smart and funny and not so... ah.... well-built." 

Steve was silent for a moment, so Ella added, “And, besides, I'm not usually attracted to people I don’t know.” He looked questioningly up at her.

Ella sighed and stretched, leaning back on her hands, head brushing the edge of the tent. She could just see the moonlight on a nearby cliff face through the mesh at the top of the tent. Then she said, “It’s why it took a while before I asked if you wanted to be intimate. I really only get attracted to people after I know them and like their personality.”

“Huh,” Steve said. Ella said quickly, “Don’t get me wrong, I can aesthetically appreciate someone’s looks, but I’m not drawn to them unless I like their conversational style, how they think about things, what their values are on some key issues... stuff like that. And... how it feels to be with them.”

Steve nodded and put his hands behind his head. “Actually that seems pretty sane to me. Peggy was...” he paused and then let his breath out, long and slow. It wasn't quite a whistle, but it felt sort of like that. “...Well, *very* attractive. But there were plenty of pretty girls around. What made her so special... was definitely her personality, her smarts... and how good she was at her job.”

“Yeah... that’s how I felt about Ethan, too,” Ella said. “I didn’t really start to like him until we started talking about my work, and his work. And then I got to see that he actually really understood why I do what I do, and was really supportive of that. It’s... part of why I miss him so much, why it hurt so much to break up with him.”

Steve looked over at her. “Why did you, then?”

Ella sighed. “He’d just moved away, to the UK. He’d just gotten started with his nonprofit work. I was about to start the fellowship in DC. I just... I knew both of us well enough that I knew we wouldn’t be able to make it work. Even if we both know how important work is to each of us, I thought it would be hard not to start resenting each other’s dedication... And I didn’t want to lose him as a friend.”

Steve nodded. “So, you’re still friends then?” Ella nodded back. “Yeah. And I’m so grateful for that. We still write letters, emails. Sometimes even phone calls, but less of that because of the time difference and how busy we are. And… it doesn’t always work out like that. There are some of my exes that I wasn’t able to stay friends with. But... most of the really important ones, we’ve been able to re-make our relationship, to stay in each others’ lives. It’s really wonderful not to lose the people you love, even when your relationship changes form. But even then, it takes time to adjust. Not everyone is up for that. I think I’m unusual in that way.”

Steve said, “I’ll bet you are.” He reached up to stroke her cheek. She said, “But, anyway, the whole reason I was saying that is that I would have been attracted to you, if your personality was about the same as it is now.”

Steve chuckled, pulling her back down to him. He kissed the top of her head as she nestled back into him. "Well, it's true that I probably never would have said anything to you, if I were still like I was back then," he said, "I was always really shy around girls. I never knew what to say or do. So you might not have actually got to know me. So... it's sort of a silly question, I guess."

Ella shifted and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, if I'd met you," she paused, teasing, "and you'd actually been able to talk to me," Steve smiled, "then I think I would have liked you." Steve chuckled, and added, "I guess I was also kinda serious, too."

"You mean you're not serious now?" Ella laughed incredulously. "You're still trying to save the world all the time." Steve laughed and said, “I think I was even more serious, back then, when all I wanted was to try to save the world, and I couldn’t.”

Ella looked at him, and thought about all he must have been through, and reached up, gently turning his face towards hers. "Yes, Steve, I would have been interested in you, even if you didn't look like this." She scooched closer and kissed him, hoping to prove her point nonverbally, and as their lips met, she could tell from the urgency in his response that it had been a much more vulnerable question than it had seemed on the surface. It quickly escalated to a point where Ella was glad that no one else was in this part of the campground, so the noises they each let slip into the warm night air didn't betray them too much.


	30. Chapter 30

“Thanks, Dad,” Ella said, awkwardly hugging her father good night and sliding out of the car. “It’s good to see you.” He nodded, and she waved a little as she stepped away from the car and he drove away. She sighed. It had been too long since she’d visited them for dinner, but Steve was out on a mission for a few days, so this had seemed like a perfect opportunity to see them.

Ella could tell that her parents were relieved to see her in person, to see that she was all right. She didn’t usually go so long without talking with them; she’d told them that she’d been really busy at work, and they’d accepted that explanation. But she knew they knew her well enough to guess that there was something else going on.

As she walked into the train station and worked her way up the stairs because the escalator was broken, Ella thought to herself that it was remarkable that they were so trusting, letting her be so independent without pressing for more details. She wondered if she’d be able to be tolerant like that when she was a parent someday.

The train arrived, and she got distracted with finding a seat and pulling out her laptop to do a little work on the ride home. In fact, her mind was so solidly in work that it wasn’t until she was actually walking up to the door of her apartment that she realized the light was already on inside.

Pulse quickening, she realized Steve must be back from his mission. This wasn’t the first time he’d been gone for an extended time... but it was the first time he’d told her he wouldn’t know when he’d be back, and in fact it had been a couple of days longer than any of the other trips he’d taken.

She eagerly put her key in the door, got it open, and in her excitement dropped them as she tried to step inside, close the door, and put her bag down all at the same time.

“Steve?” she said, turning back to face into the room as she managed to sort it all out. The excitement rapidly faded into worry as it took a moment for her to locate his prone form on the bed. “Steve?” she asked a second time, fear now in her voice.

“Hey,” he said, a little weakly, from the bed. Ella yanked her shoes off and came over to him, kneeling at his side. His eyes were closed, she could barely make out, in the dim light on that side of the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

Steve opened his eyes and smiled at her, and as she leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp, he winced.

Ella let out a gasp before she could stifle it. He was injured: bruises on his arms and face, and a variety of cuts and lacerations. They’d been seen to, and in fact some of the deeper wounds were stitched and bandaged. But he’d clearly been in a fight, and with someone who could get the better of him. Unlike the would-be muggers three months ago.

Steve chuckled weakly at her. “Sorry. I’ve been trying not to bleed on anything.”

Ella tentatively put her hand on his arm, in between injuries. “What happened?” she asked.

He swallowed, licked dry lips, and said, “You know I can’t tell you that.” Ella knew. When he’d started going on missions, they’d talked about how the less Ella knew about what he was doing, the better for her. She’d tried to be brave about it, but seeing him like this was too much. A few tears leaked out as she nodded numbly.

Steve chuckled again. “Oh, come on, it’s all right. Injuries like this, I’ll heal in a couple of days. The broken ribs, maybe more like a week. I might have to... ah, take it easy with our calisthenics, until then.”

Ella laughed through her tears. She said, “Okay, nothing too rough. Now isn’t the time for experimenting with new positions or anything.” He smiled at her. Then she said, “Can I get you anything?” He nodded, and said, “The usual tea would be really nice.” She smiled at him and went to make the tea.

In the end, Ella made him a little snack to have with the tea. Steve waved away her offer of painkillers. “Nat already doped me up as much as it will help me, anyway. After a certain point it doesn’t do anything... something about the serum. What she gave me will get me through the night, and most of the pain will be gone tomorrow. If I take it easy for a few more days, it’ll be fine.”

Ella just shook her head in wonder at what the serum did for him. Eventually it was time for bed, and when she climbed in next to him, though she was extremely careful not to jostle him, she still heard him suck in his breath in pain a few times. She turned the light out and tried to find a way to snuggle in next to him without putting pressure on any of his injuries.

In the dark, she said to him, “Just let me know if I can get you anything, or do anything for you. Even in the middle of the night. Okay?”

Steve stroked her arm with his hand. “I will.” After a few minutes went by, he said, “Can we do something nice tomorrow?”

Ella said, “Sure... did you have something in mind?”

Steve sighed. “We’ve never managed to get up to the Golden Gate Bridge. Can we do that tomorrow?” He sounded almost a little wistful to her.

“Of course,” Ella said.

So the next day, Ella went and got a day-rental car from the city-car-share system. And they drove up to the Presidio, and parked by the bridge, and walked a ways out onto it, turning back when Steve’s ribs started to hurt too much. Even in September, the air was cold and that probably wasn’t helping him. She was glad she’d brought her jacket, and told him to bring his.

As they got back in the car, Steve said to her, “You know, it really is a beautiful bridge. It was famous, even back in my day.” Ella laughed.

“Yeah. There’s nothing quite like it. But you can see, it’s not just the bridge. It’s the Golden Gate itself… the opening from the Bay to the Pacific ocean. The bridge is a lovely adornment to what’s already there in the more-than-human world.”

Steve smiled at her. They sat for a moment, watching tourists moving past onto the bridge in small clumps. Even on a weekday, it was busy here. After a bit, Ella said, “I thought maybe you might like to go sit on the beach for a while, so I brought some snacks and a blanket.”

He leaned over carefully to kiss her. “I don’t know how you knew, but yes, that would be really nice.” He settled back into the seat and closed his eyes. “I’ve been thinking we ought to go to the beach together, sometime. Now is as good a time as any. And it sounds relaxing.”

Ella nodded, feeling satisfied. She clearly couldn’t help him with his work or with his healing, but she could come up with things to do to enjoy the moment and distract a little from it all. She put the car in gear and drove up to Rodeo Beach, only a couple of miles from the bridge, in Golden Gate National Recreation Area. 

“I stayed in those dorms for a workshop, once,” she said, pointing as they passed what had been an old fort. “Really uncomfortable beds,” she added. "Fine for kids at summer camp. But I'm getting too old for that." Steve laughed, and then winced a little. So Ella tried to hold off the commentary until they got to the beach, found a warm spot out of the worst of the wind, and settled in to sit on the blanket she’d brought and eat snacks.

Eventually, staring out into the endless blue of the ocean, with a bank of fog some distance offshore, Ella said to Steve, “I had dinner with my parents. It was good to see them.” Steve said, “That’s great. I’m glad you got the chance to visit.”

Then Ella couldn't stop herself saying, “It’s so hard not to tell them about you.”

Steve snorted softly. “You mean, because I’m an Avenger?” Ella gave him a dirty look. He knew better, so she thought he must be teasing her. Just the same, she said, “No, because of how important to me you are. And because of who you are. Not because of your... job.” She trailed off, looking down, reminded again of his injuries.

Steve sighed. “You know that the more people know about me, the more danger you’ll be in. And if I met your folks... for all I know, *they’d* end up in danger, too. I can’t do that to them. You at least knew what you were getting into, for the most part.”

Ella nodded. Then she said, “Well, maybe they wouldn’t recognize you?” Steve shook his head. “Random strangers don’t recognize me when I’m wearing a hat, glasses, when I haven’t shaved. If I came and ate dinner at their house, you know, sat there for a few hours? I bet they’d recognize me.”

Ella sighed sadly. “Okay.” Steve sighed too, and then said, “If it means that much to you… we can consider it. As long as you know the risks.” Ella looked up at him brightly. He was right, that there were risks. And she wasn’t actually sure she wanted to take those risks with her parents. But at least it wasn’t because he wasn’t open to meeting them. “Okay,” she said.

They settled back into a companionable silence as they munched on crackers, cheese, and sliced-up apples. Ella wasn’t really sure what to talk about. Eventually she settled on, “I finished running those models I was telling you about before you left.”

“Oh?” he asked, pulling out a water bottle and drinking. “Yeah,” Ella said. “I figured out what was making them run so long, and when I fixed it, they were done in a quarter the time. It meant I could do more runs. I was really... happy about that.” Ella trailed off. It all felt so inconsequential, in the face of whatever Steve had been doing.

Eventually, she said to him in frustration, “Look, I know you can’t tell me what happened, exactly. But... I mean, how often is this sort of thing going to happen? Where you go away for a long time and come back ...like this?”

Steve sighed. He sat, silent, for a while. Ella almost interrupted to say more, but then he said, “Nat told me we had a lead on this guy I’d been doing the research on. ‘Crossbones,’ they’re calling him. A code name, if I ever heard one. But the follow up on this particular intel meant that both Nat and I had to... well, that’s too much detail. But let’s just say that it didn’t go according to plan. And... I don’t know, usually when it’s just the two of us, with something like this? I only get this beat up maybe one out of five times. Usually we’re better at gauging what we’re up against. And... I think I was a little out of practice, too.” He looked disappointed in himself.

Ella said, “I hope I haven’t let you get soft.” Trying to joke a little. Steve laughed once, hard, and then winced. Alarmed, she reached out to gently touch his side where the broken ribs were, as if somehow she could do something. He shook his head at her and said, “No, no, you’re not letting me get soft. In fact... you usually keep me on my toes, pretty well. In ways that most people don’t.”

Ella wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he was smiling at her, so she took it as a compliment. Steve went on, “No, I’ve just not been doing this kind of work for a while. It’s Nat’s fault, too. She was the one who insisted I should have a vacation.”

“Well, that puts me in good company, then,” Ella said, smiling at him. Steve smiled back. Then his smile faded into a frown. “This guy, though... without giving any details... Crossbones. He’s a real problem. I have the feeling we’re only at the start of figuring out what he’s up to. There... there might be more missions like this. Where I’m gone and I don’t know how long.”

Ella nodded. What could she say? Clearly, she had to accept him, if she wanted to be with him. That meant accepting this. She said, “Well... obviously it would be great for you to give me as much warning as you can, when you have to go, and it would be great if you can give me an idea how long it will be that you’ll be gone. But... I get it. I get what you do, and who you are. And I love you anyway, and I want to be with you anyway. I’ll just keep trying to work with it when it happens.”

Steve sighed, half-smiling at her. He reached over and cupped her cheek, and said, “I love you too. I’ll do my best to keep you out of it, and keep you as informed as I can.”

Ella sighed, and leaned forward to kiss him, feeling the cold ocean breeze blowing past, feeling how warm he was as she got close to him. “And you know you have a place to come home to,” she added, just before she set her lips on his, softly.

Steve kissed her back with more energy than she expected, and after they were done, he said softly in her ear, “I do know that. And that’s pretty fantastic. So thank you.”

Ella laughed. “You’re welcome.” She kissed him a little more, and then he seemed tired. She insisted that he lay his head in her lap, and she sat there, singing softly a lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her when she was little, stroking his hair. Steve dozed off a bit, and Ella gazed out at the water.

As the waves curled and crashed and crept up the beach towards them, though well out of range, Ella thought they were a little like life, trying to reach in and carry them away from each other. Just like they’d carried Ethan and her apart. Or her and Artemis together, and away, and together again. The thing was, when someone was important, you swam against the current to keep them in your life. And when life made it easy to be with them, well, you just tried to enjoy it. 

So she just tried to enjoy the feeling of the breeze, and Steve heavy against her as the serum did its work to repair the damage he’d sustained, and the smell of the salt water and the seaweed and the sage-brush upslope from them. There was a lot here to enjoy.


	31. Chapter 31

A month later, Steve was having lunch, sipping a cup of tea, reading a book, when his cellphone buzzed. It got his attention immediately, no matter that it was across the room in his bag: it was the high-urgency signal. He closed the book hastily and went to get the phone. It was, in fact, a text message from Natasha, one word: 

"Assemble." 

Steve was surprised by the storm of feelings that washed over him as he read the word, but he tried to push them aside and focus on what it had to mean. It would be higher-priority and more complex than the missions he’d done in the last two months with just Natasha; “Assemble” always meant the whole team was needed. What could be that high-priority? Nat had briefed him on their recent activities, just last week. And she’d done a mission with Steve just the week before that, and there were no signs that any of the stuff they had been working on was this urgent... so it had to be something more on the scale of “aliens are suddenly attacking New York.”

"Mission summary?" Steve typed. Then waited. He went cold when he saw her response: 

"Rumlow." A moment went by, and then a second message: "Alive and making trouble."

Shock washed over him, but it quickly faded into conviction. Rumlow had been in the thick of the HYDRA mess, a year and a half ago. He was highly trained, extremely dangerous, and apparently hadn't been killed when the helicarriers had crashed into the Triskelion in DC. Sam had fought with him, but no one had recovered his body. If he was alive, then this was *very* high priority. And, the second Steve had heard that Rumlow was alive, his gut told him that was who Crossbones really was. The things they knew about Crossbones’ activities and style just... matched up too well with what Steve knew of Rumlow. And the things they’d been digging up on Crossbones... well, the priority was warranted.

"ETA to pickup?" he typed. If it was this urgent, they'd probably send the Quinn-jet for him. Steve waited for Natasha to answer.

"Coming to get you tomorrow night. Coordinates attached." That was unusual... for a high-priority mission, he would have expected a pickup today. But he trusted Natasha’s judgment; she knew the situation and he didn’t, yet. So Steve typed in: "Confirmed." Natasha replied, "See you then." 

Steve could feel his pulse rate rising as he remembered all the events of the collapse of SHIELD... Nick Fury's assassination, finding out that Bucky was the Winter Soldier, Steve and Natasha being hunted by SHIELD, and beyond all that, the fact that HYDRA had lived on within SHIELD all this time, that Zola had been behind it all and was somehow still alive... though, not anymore, of course. Rumlow was one of the last unresolved threads. This was personal. Extremely personal. Steve felt rising anger mixing in with his usual, more rational, sense of duty regarding stopping bullies. 

Steve looked at the coordinates, saw that they were way out in the Central Valley. He’d have to leave in the morning tomorrow to make sure to get there in time. Well, that was fine, he could have breakfast with Ella even, before heading out.

And that’s when it hit him. If Crossbones was Rumlow... the man was supremely vindictive and cruel. Chances were, if he had survived the collapse of SHIELD, he'd have it in for Steve, personally. If there was any chance that Rumlow could find out about Ella... Steve sat down heavily on the coffee table. He put the phone down slowly.

Steve’s first instinct was that he needed to break any connection with Ella to keep her safe. And he realized that was why Nat had given him more time to assemble than he’d expected... to give him time to say goodbye. And that was why the coordinates were so far out of town... to protect Ella. Nat had known what it would mean for Crossbones to turn out to be Rumlow, and she’d guessed accurately what Steve’s call would be about it. She’d been giving him space, and helping him protect the people he cared about.

But how could he break it off with Ella? Considering it threw into sharp relief just how much Ella’s love and support meant to him... Steve mentally went around in circles desperately for a few minutes, until he realized he would also have to find some way to break this news to her. Never mind how *he* felt about it, how was he going to tell her? How was she going to react? This, this was why he shouldn't have gotten involved. It had been so easy to ignore the potential that something like this could happen. He’d ignored it for the five months he'd been here. But now it came crashing back down on him. Steve stood up and started pacing.

Ella was away at a meeting on campus. She wouldn't be back for at least another hour, he thought, looking at the clock on the wall. What to do with himself? Steve looked out the window and saw the light shifting from middle-of-the-day to afternoon. He thought to himself that he should go out for a run. It had been surprisingly hot out there this time yesterday, for October. But he didn't care. He needed to run off some of the energy around all these emotions and hope that they calmed down enough that when he got back and she got back that he could talk to her reasonably about it. Steve changed his clothes and laced up his shoes and headed out.

It was nearly an hour later when he got back. Ella had got home before he had, and had made herself a little afternoon snack. She smiled and came to him, sliding her hands up his arms, slick with sweat still from the run. Steve felt the familiar thrill from the contact and for a moment forgot about what he had to tell her.

Ella stood on tiptoe and reached up to kiss him, and Steve wrapped his arms around her, picking her up slightly as their lips met. She chuckled a little in surprise but kept kissing him. Steve tasted the spicy trail mix she had been snacking on, and his senses were momentarily overwhelmed with her. The smell of her skin warmed by the sun this afternoon, her herbal deodorant, and below that the natural smells of her body... the sensation of soft lips, and teeth, against his lips... the sound of her breathing and the little noises she made that he was sure she didn't realize she made when she was really enjoying herself... he began to feel aroused and shifted her a bit against him. Ella hummed with pleasure, and for some reason that was enough to remind him that he had some reality to deal with.

Steve slowly broke away, made speechless by arousal and despair. Confused, Ella leaned her forehead against his. He struggled with what to say, what to do. At length, he sighed and let her back down, and stepped slightly away.

Worried now, Ella said, "Steve? What's wrong?" He looked at her, standing there, backlit by the sun, hair glowing around the edges, and, for a brief wild second, thought of throwing it all away, staying with her, staying here (and doing what with himself?). But that thought was ruthlessly followed by his sense of responsibility, both to keep her safe by leaving, and to keep the world safe by fighting to defend the powerless. Rumlow was on the loose. Enough said.

Finally, Steve said, "I... I have to... go." Ella still looked confused.

“You mean, a longer mission than usual?” she asked.

Steve looked down. He couldn’t make eye contact with her. “No... I mean...” he started, but couldn’t finish. As he stood there, he felt tears come to his eyes. He tried to stop them, ignore them, but then he heard Ella catch her breath.

She said, “You... you mean you need to end it. With me.” How could she guess, that quickly? He looked up at her, and saw tears in her eyes too.

“What happened?” Ella asked, softly. “What changed?”

Steve looked her in the eyes, now, and felt an entirely different kind of heartbreak than he had in the moment that he had decided to put the Valkyrie down in the sea. He said to Ella, “Not my feelings for you. But... the risks. The risks changed.”

Ella nodded slowly. Then she drew in a deep breath and asked, "When?"

Steve sat at the little glass table and looked up at Ella as she followed him and moved close to him, reaching down to stroke his hair. She did it tentatively, sadly, but her touch was extremely welcome in that moment, so Steve put an arm around her and drew her close. Ella shifted to sit a little on his leg. He looked down and said, "Tomorrow night. They're going to pick me up somewhere out in the Central Valley, so I'll have to leave after breakfast to make sure I'm out there with plenty of time." Ella choked back a little sob, and he looked up at her. He could see that she was trying hard to hold in the tears. He hugged her close, leaning his head on her arm. "I'm sorry... " he said.

Ella shook her head, sniffled a little, and said, "I mean, I knew this might happen. I knew it might get too dangerous." She looked down at him and their eyes met again, and she smiled bravely. "I wanted to accept the risk anyway, but…" Steve reached up to stroke her face. He said, “You shouldn’t, though. I... If anything happened to you, I could never forgive myself.”

Ella laughed sadly. “You already have enough to worry about. And *I’d* feel bad if I was another reason for you to beat yourself up. So, clearly that’s not an option.” Steve laughed a little, though it felt hollow.

After a moment, Ella got up and went back to the kitchen to make tea. Steve stood and went to the counter, leaning on it. She glanced over at him, and he didn't know how to interpret her look. 

Then Ella sighed as she spooned sugar into their mugs and then set her hands on the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Eventually she said, “You do know, though... that it’s important to me, to still have *some* relationship with you.”

Steve started to protest. “I just can’t put you at risk!” Ella shot him a look that said this was not optional. He bristled a little at the implication that she could somehow make that decision for both of them, but then Ella said, “Surely there are ways we can keep in touch that won’t put me at risk,” she said.

Steve couldn’t think of anything, so he didn’t respond. They were both silent, uncomfortable for a moment, listening to the sounds of the kettle stirring and shifting as the water heated. Then Ella said, “I should have some say in what risks I take on, for things that are important to me.” Steve had to admit to himself that this was a reasonable point. But how could she know the risks, unless he put her at even more risk and told her what was going on? Though the risk would be less, even if they *were* still in contact, as long as he wasn't always coming back and staying at her place. He still wasn't sure what to say.

The kettle started to whistle and she turned off the heat and poured a little water into the mugs and swirled them a bit to dissolve the sugar. Then she added the teabags and the rest of the water. She set the kettle on one of the cold burners and then turned to face him, leaning on the counter. There were tears on her cheeks.

“Steve... I know you have to go, but... I just don’t want to lose you, you know, completely.” He looked at Ella, and she looked so vulnerable, so small, so sad... he reached over and scooped her up and drew her close. Maybe there *was* some way to stay in touch. His mind returned to their early relationship: written letters, maybe -- that might be low-risk. And... he admitted to himself that he didn't want to lose her, completely, either. Steve murmured to her, “Okay. We’ll find some way to keep in touch.”

"Of course, if it’s safe, you can still call me if you need to talk, about anything." Steve laughed a little, and nodded. "I will."

"And... if you're ever in the area again... give me a call?" Ella added, a little weakly. 

"I will," he said, and kissed her deeply.

~*~

It was their last morning together. Ella clung to sleep as the sun made itself more and more known. Eventually she failed at going back to sleep and opened her eyes, looking quietly over at Steve. Usually an early riser, he was uncharacteristically quiet and apparently equally unwilling to get up. Ella sighed softly. When they’d made love last night, it had been more vigorous than usual. Fueled by a kind of desperation, a knowledge that it would probably be the last time. She turned over and nestled into him, and he made a sleepy sound of affection, wrapping himself around her.

But eventually Steve stirred, woke up, and there was no avoiding it anymore. He got up, and she got up. She made them breakfast as he showered and gathered his things. They ate in silence. He cleaned up the dishes. And then Ella sat on the bed in her bathrobe and tried desperately not to cry while he did the last of his packing.

Eventually he was ready to go, shoes on, duffel assembled, clean-shaven again and tidy and looking perfect. Ella despaired, just looking at him. Some part of her said, see, you knew you couldn't keep Steve Rogers. Though... it was good while it lasted.

Steve came to Ella and took her by the hands, pulling her up. He held her hands for a few moments, looking down into her eyes. Then he said, somewhat formally, "Thank you for the time here," and he nodded in the general direction of their surroundings. Ella nodded, unable to say anything. Another moment went by. He looked a little awkward, but she just didn't know what to say to him, so she couldn't help him. Eventually, he sighed and stroked her hair out of her face and said, "I'm gonna miss you." Ella smiled but couldn't help letting a tear roll down her cheek. He stroked that away too. She nodded, and said, voice breaking, "I'll miss you too. If you're ever in the area again..."

"...I'll let you know," he finished, and smiled. They both laughed slightly. Steve leaned forward and kissed her. It was a kind of sad kiss, slow and full of regret and a touch of that desperation to hang on for one more moment together. It said to Ella that he didn't want to leave, he was sad to leave... that he cared for her deeply. More than he'd been able to say in words.

And then he left. Ella watched him leave, get on the motorcycle, start it up, and head out of sight. She wondered for a moment how his ride out to the Central Valley would be, and what the Avengers' jet looked like. She tried unsuccessfully to imagine that life he was returning to. Even having been to the tower in New York, before Ultron, it was hard to imagine Steve's day-to-day life.

Ella listened for the motorcycle until she was certain she couldn't hear it anymore. And then she went back to bed and cried herself to sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

### Part Nine

__

_10th October, 2015_

_Dear Ella,_

_I know it’s been a while. But I wanted you to know that I’ve moved back to the Bay Area. You may remember that my mother is no longer with us, that she died a few years before we met. Well, my father passed, earlier this year, and my sister and I decided I should move to California. Her travel to Nigeria will be a little longer from here, but she thinks I’ll have a better shot at moving our projects forward if I’m based out here._

_So... I’ve already bought a house in El Cerrito. Naija ensured that I chose a home big enough for her to come stay here when she needs, but otherwise... I’m back in the area._

_I would love to see you, if you’re available. Give me a ring, same number as it was last time I was in the U.S._

_With all best wishes,_

_Ethan_

__

~*~

“Art, what am I supposed to do?” Ella wailed.

Artemis shifted her sleeping baby from one side to the other, re-wrapping the sling to hold her more securely; the baby made sweet little nonsense sounds and then settled back down. Artemis sighed. “Well, do you want to see him?”

Ella slumped down over the table. “Yes,” she said miserably into her arms. “Very much.”

“Then what’s the problem? Artemis asked.

Ella looked up. “I... I missed Ethan so much. You know how I felt about him.” Artemis nodded. “But... Steve only left last week. I don’t want to just... rebound into doing something stupid with Ethan.”

Artemis grinned at Ella. “You sure?”

Ella blew a raspberry at Artemis. “Yes.” 

The baby stirred and Artemis sighed, shifting around to breastfeed, pulling out a drape and unhooking her bra. She draped the cloth over herself and Ella imagined the breast underneath being exposed, the baby’s mouth finding the nipple. Even in her distress about Ethan and Steve, she found herself attracted to Artemis. It felt kind of weird to be sort of turned on by her breastfeeding; Ella pushed those feelings away.

After the baby had latched on securely and was suckling away, Art said, “Well, will something definitely happen with Ethan?”

Ella leaned back from the table, tapping her fingers pensively on the edge. “I guess not... it’s just, I know how much I loved Ethan... and still do. The whole reason we broke up was because he lived far away. He... he sounds like he’s actually interested in really settling here. Bought a house for his sister and him to live in – when she’s in town – and his folks have both passed on, so there’s not really anything calling him back to the U.K. now...”

Artemis just watched, letting Ella keep talking it through. Eventually, Art said, “Ella, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. If Ethan is important to you, and he’s here, and you want to see him, then see him. If you’re worried that old flames might rekindle too fast, then tell him about it. You’ve never been one to shy away from telling people what’s going on for you. Ethan will understand. He always seemed to, before. And besides, you don’t know where *he* stands on a relationship with you. ”

Ella looked at her best friend for a moment. At length, Artemis’ words sunk in, and Ella took comfort in them. Yes, there was always the danger that she’d rebound from Steve to Ethan. But she’d known Ethan first, and he was a dear friend, in any case. And Art was right. It wasn’t like they had to jump right back in where they had been, almost three years ago. And maybe Ethan wouldn’t be interested in what they had had. That thought was actually kind of saddening. But, in any case, she *could* give Ethan fair warning that she had just ended a relationship that turned out to be more serious than she’d intended. He probably *would* understand.

“Okay,” Ella said. “Good,” Artemis responded. The baby was done feeding, so she put her up on her shoulder to burp her. The baby spat up just a little, and Art wiped the goo away from her mouth. After that was done, Ella held her hands out for the baby, and Art handed her (and the burping cloth) over.

Ella could feel the way the baby nestled in on her chest, and it felt very right. She sighed and rocked for a few minutes in silence, just focused on the feeling of this little being who utterly trusted her. Not thinking about all the other problems she was dealing with. Artemis took advantage of being baby-free for a moment and pulled out her phone.

After a while, Ella said, "Art, I just feel so dumb.” 

Artemis looked up from texting and smiled at Ella across the table. They had been going around in circles on this already in the days since Steve had left. "Why?" she asked. "Do you regret it?"

Ella sighed, looking down at the baby. "No, no, of course not. But I just feel like I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up that Steve would stay, that it was really possible to have anything long-term with him. I knew better than that."

Artemis patted her on the arm, across the table. "Come on, even if you know better, sometimes we still get attached to people. It happens to everyone."

Ella looked up at her. "Has it happened to you?" Artemis looked away, silent. The baby stirred and Ella made shushing sounds in her tiny ear until she settled again. It was remarkable how easily she fussed, but at least with this baby, how easily she was soothed again.

Ella shifted a bit in the chair as the baby fell asleep on her. After a few moments, she said, "The funny thing is, even though it was... you know, it was Steve... Sort of weird circumstances, or whatever... it still pointed out to me that I was lonelier than I realized. That’s part of why I’m afraid I might just run back to a relationship with Ethan, without thinking it through."

Artemis looked down at her phone, sent the text, and put it away. She leaned back in the chair, stretched her arms above her head, doing a couple of quick twists, and then settled in, arms crossed. Ella knew that Art was always very physically fit, and that the baby being small meant that she had to take care of her all the time. Art probably hadn’t had time to go out hiking or running, much -- Ella betted she'd lost some of her flexibility, too. So it must feel nice to have a moment with the baby sleeping on someone else and she could move freely for a little while. Ella wondered if she’d feel harried, too, when she had a little person depending on her all the time.

At length, Artemis said, “There’s nothing wrong with realizing you’re lonely and that you want companionship. Is there a problem with ending up with Ethan, if that’s how it goes?”

Ella started to retort, because some part of her brain thought there *was* a problem with that, but then she remembered not to wake the baby. Instead she paused, thinking for a moment, and then said, quietly, “There’s... there’s not. Ethan is wonderful. Unless he’s changed a lot in the last three years, and from staying in touch with him, I would guess he hasn’t, at least not in the important ways...” She trailed off. Art had a point.

Artemis said, “Then what? Something’s still bothering you.”

Ella sighed. “Well, I know it’s silly, but... it would be admitting that I could never have that relationship with Steve again. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would be interested in a multiple-relationship, polyamorous sort of arrangement, I think.” Artemis laughed. “Probably not,” she agreed. 

Ella went on: “I mean... it might not be possible, anyway! It might be that it will never be safe for me to be as close with Steve as we were this year. And so... maybe it’s better for me to move on. But I feel like I told him, if he ever needed me... If he was ever in the neighborhood...” She trailed off wistfully.

It was Art’s turn to blow a raspberry at Ella. “I can’t believe *I* am the one saying this to *you*. But just because you might not be physically intimate with Steve doesn’t mean you can’t still be emotionally intimate with him. Especially if he needs you.” 

Ella couldn’t read the look in Artemis’ eyes. But she thought maybe Artemis wasn’t only talking about Steve. They had still never discussed how they felt about how their lives had come out, whether either of them regretted not doing something about their trip to Arches together; but Andy clearly wasn’t interested in an open relationship, so it was moot at this point. It was equally clear that Ella and Artemis had maintained their emotional intimacy without any problem. Ella depended on Art, especially for things like this, and she liked to think that Art could depend on her in return. Though Art usually didn’t need it.

And Art was right: Ella certainly, in general, valued emotional intimacy with those she loved, equally as much or maybe more than physical intimacy. It *was* funny that Artemis had to remind her of this basic fact about herself. But that was what a good best friend did for you: held up a mirror when you most needed to see yourself.

Ella murmured, “You’re right, of course.” Art said, “Damn straight.”

They sat for a few more moments, Art finishing up her sandwich and drinking the last of her tea. Then it was time for her to go. Ella reluctantly handed the groggy baby back over to her. Artemis hugged Ella, hard. Then she said, “You’ll call him, then?”

Ella nodded. “Good,” Artemis said. Then she strapped the baby back into the sling, waved goodbye, and headed out.

Ella sighed and picked up her phone. She said, “Here goes nothing,” and then told the phone, “Call Ethan.”


	33. Chapter 33

Ella was giggling uncontrollably as she followed Ethan up the steps to his front door.

"...At any rate, I just thought it was rather absurd," he finished, as he stopped to get his keys out to unlock the door.

"I'd say it was!" Ella responded, a little breathless from laughing so much. Ethan had always had a dry sense of humor, and he'd caught her off guard as they'd walked from the train station to Ethan's new place. 

Ella reflected for a moment, how much she'd missed his sense of humor. It was a loss she'd been very aware of, right after they'd broken up. Something would happen in life, and she'd think of just what sarcastic or intelligent funny thing Ethan would have said about it. But that had faded with time, and though they'd kept in touch, he didn't tend towards quite as much humor in his writing or over the phone. In the last week, since they'd been getting together for lunch every couple of days, she'd really been reminded of how good it felt to be with him. And the humor was definitely part of that.

Ella had told him about her current work. Ethan had told her about the grants he'd gotten from some of the big tech companies' charitable foundations. He described some of the tech solutions they'd been working on, mostly in the category of emergency lighting that could be charged during the day using solar cells but would stay lit for a full 10 hours: ideally through the night, and in parts of the world where night could be quite long. Ethan had told her he had a whole new set of ideas, though, because when he went into the communities in Nigeria and elsewhere with these tech solutions, some of the feedback he got was that there were entirely different problems that had to be solved before the lighting was even useful.

Ella told Ethan about how her parents were doing, that her father was just starting to talk about retiring. She told him about Art and Andy and their new baby. He'd gotten a little faraway when she mentioned that; and he'd told her how much he missed his father. Ella had given him a big hug, then. It didn't feel awkward at all; it was comfortable, to give him solace, and for him to receive it. It wasn't quite like the last three years apart had never happened... but the two of them were definitely able to fall back into the easy sort of patterns of relating that they'd had back then.

Ethan did feel a little different to her, though. More serious, in some way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Anyway," he said, bringing Ella back into the present. "Here it is." And he opened the door wide, gesturing for her to go in.

Ella smiled as she stepped past, into the entryway. Ethan flipped on the lights, and she saw that the living room was open to the kitchen, and there was room for a dining table over by a sliding door out to a yard (though it was too dark at this time of the evening to see outside). There were stairs up to a second floor, which he was already telling her had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. He pointed to a door to his right, and said there was another bedroom there, which he planned to use as a home office. Somewhere on the ground floor there was a half bath, too.

They walked around the house, Ethan pointing out all the little details. Ella remembered that he'd always liked the little accents that many houses had. Things like crown moulding in one room, skylights for natural light in the stairwell on the way up to the second floor. The place had already been renovated and looked quite modern. The kitchen was quite impressive. Though Ella had never really liked the stainless steel look, all the appliances did look very... shiny. And the gas cooktop was a higher-end brand name she recognized... that was one thing she wished her little apartment had. Electric burners just weren't as good as gas, and she missed cooking at her parents' house where they had a cooktop very much like Ethan's.

He hadn't really unpacked very much yet, though. There were boxes everywhere. "You wouldn't know I've been here since September. It's just that I've been so busy setting everything up with the business, of course," Ethan explained ruefully.

Ella laughed. "Yeah, you've never gotten yourself too distracted with work. That's never happened," she teased. Ethan laughed and said, "Look who's talking."

She laughed harder. "Mea culpa, mea culpa, you win." He came over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. She added, "Anyway, the place is lovely." Ethan smiled. "Thanks."

Then: "Can I get you some tea?" Ella nodded. "Rooibos all right?" She nodded again. She loved the South African red tea... it had a woodsy, vanilla-like flavor. She'd drunk a lot of it when she and Ethan had been together. She hadn't been avoiding it since then, exactly, but she'd tended towards herbals for the most part. The thought of sharing it with Ethan again was extremely appealing. Especially because it was getting somewhat cold out in the evenings. Though, she realized, it was already October 21st. The weather had a right to get cold at this point.

Ethan set about making the tea, and Ella sat at the kitchen counter on a low barstool and looked around at all the boxes. Of course, the kettle and tea were unpacked already -- priorities, she thought.

"You know, I could come over a few nights this week and help you put things away," Ella offered. "Sometimes it helps me get over the barrier to starting a project like that, if I have company."

Ethan came to stand across from her and said, "That would be delightful."

They stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other, apparently out of topics, and Ella started to feel slightly nervous. This time with Ethan had been really wonderful. She loved him very much, and she had missed being with him. She was so pleased that he was local again, and likely to stay that way, it seemed. And... she could definitely feel the tug of wanting to get romantically involved with him again. She was still resisting it, because she wasn't sure she was over Steve enough; and she still didn't know how Ethan was feeling about the idea.

A moment later, the kettle whistled and Ethan went to steep the tea. He brought Ella her mug and sat next to her at the counter. Ella recognized the mug – it had been one of her favorites, back when they were together. Ethan must have remembered.

Then he got quite serious. "Ella, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," she said, nervousness intensifying.

"Have you... have you been seeing anyone?" Ella's heart started to beat a little harder. Ethan had a conflicted look on his face; she wasn't sure what he was thinking or feeling, but this seemed like the time to explain about Steve. Only... the fewer people who knew exactly who he was, the better. Right now Art was the only one who knew. And Ella didn't need to name names in order to answer the question.

So she said, "I... I was, actually. But we broke up a little over two weeks ago. We dated for about five months."

"Oh!" Ethan said. "That's quite recent; I'm sorry to hear it."

Ella smiled a little painfully. "Thanks for that. It's okay... it was his career, he had to move away to do a job and we decided it just wasn't going to work." Then she realized what that sounded like. "Actually, not too different from what happened with us." Ethan nodded, looking sad.

Then he looked over at her. "Ella... I don't want you to think me presumptuous, but..." Ethan paused as if he wasn't sure how exactly to proceed.

"What is it?" she asked.

Ethan sighed. "Well, don't feel that this puts any pressure on you, but... Now that my father is gone, well... It's become so clear to me how I have prioritized my work over my family. Of course, my work is *so* important to me, as you know, but... I have neglected an important part of my life. I... I came back to the Bay Area, not just for the access it affords me to the foundations and their grants. I... also came back because of you. I wanted to make my home here, to be nearer to you."

Ella's heart seemed to be trying to fly out of her chest through her mouth. It was an incredibly romantic and grand gesture. She'd never had someone do something of this scale for her before. She found herself actually slightly uncomfortable with the idea of someone's big life decisions being made with her in mind, in this way. Fortunately, she knew Ethan well enough that she could guess it wasn't all because of her. It had clearly been a large factor in his calculations, but he wasn't so foolish as to make decisions solely for romance.

All she could do was nod, and try to keep breathing as slowly and calmly as she could. Ethan nodded back, and went on, "I really don't intend any pressure on you. Even if we remain only friends, you are so important to me that living near you would still be of great value."

Ella nodded again. One part of her wanted desperately to say yes -- a thousand times yes, she wanted to be romantically involved with him... But the rest of her knew better; she'd need time to digest this, she'd need to be extra careful not to do anything stupid.

Ethan finished, "At any rate, if you're interested, I'm here. And I'm here to stay."

Ella smiled at him, and tentatively leaned over, close. She remembered his smell, she realized. She'd hugged him a few times over the last week, but something about how they were sitting, and how close she was in this moment, meant that it was the first time she'd really remembered it. She closed her eyes, and kissed him softly on the lips. That felt as good as she remembered it, too.

As Ella leaned away again, opening her eyes, she saw the look of hope in Ethan's eyes. It was heartbreakingly raw. Ella wondered, amidst her own desire to throw caution to the wind and hook up with him, whether maybe he was being driven a little too much by the grief of having lost his father. Maybe caution would be a good thing for them both.

So she said, "I am definitely interested. But I've got to think about it, okay?" Ethan nodded, sobering up a little, hope tempering itself with reason, she could see. She put her hand on his arm, though, and gave him a squeeze.

"And, anyway, I think we ought to take it slow, regardless." She thought a little sadly of how Steve had made that request, just half a year ago. But Ethan nodded again. Ella added, "And I'm definitely going to help you put all this stuff away, because this is just ridiculous."

Ethan laughed and said, "Yes, please, save me from myself." They drank their tea for a while, and then Ella headed out. Ethan offered to walk her to the train station, but she knew it was a short walk and she felt confident in her self-defense training, so she turned Ethan down. As she walked, she sent a thought of gratitude to Steve for his protection and help in this respect. She'd kept practicing on her own, a little, and the moves still made sense. In fact, she'd been thinking of joining an Aikido dojo to keep the skills up. But there was nothing quite like sparring with Captain America, of course.

As she walked, she thought about what to do about Steve. A letter, she decided. I ought to write to him and tell him that Ethan is back. Steve had, as per his agreement, written to her with instructions on how to keep in touch, safely. He had a P.O. box registered to Joseph Phillips in Elizabeth, New Jersey, that he'd check every few weeks. So, she'd write to him.


	34. Chapter 34

A week and a half later, Ella was reading Steve's response. 

"That's wonderful that Ethan's back. I think you should go for it," Steve said in the letter. "You really shouldn't feel like you're tied to me, somehow." Ella felt a shock of recognition. Hadn't she said something like that to him, when they'd originally hooked up?

Steve reassured her in the letter that of course he would still reach out to her if he ever needed support, and that he was doing all right. Ella knew he was probably not as 'all right' as he would admit, but it was more the next few lines that told her maybe he really was going to be okay:

"You asked how things are going with work -- well, progress is slow, on that project I was working on before," Ella knew this meant Crossbones, "But really the best part is being back with the team."

"We're really working well together. Nat did a great job with the training while I was gone, and they're really solid, both as backup for each other, and each in their own right," Ella read. 

She could tell that was the sound of a happy Steve. She could tell that it meant he felt like he belonged somewhere. And she felt a little less bad about continuing to fall for Ethan all over again.

Ella had talked to Artemis extensively about the subject. Art was good-natured but long-suffering about it. Ella thought Art would be happier when she just decided to go for it with Ethan. But Art'd been good about listening, about offering rational points to counterbalance Ella's impulses. 

Ella would say something like "Art, I keep getting in relationships with people who are even more driven about their work than I am. And that breaks us up. But then here's Ethan, saying that he's realized how important family is to him, saying he's committed to staying!"

Artemis had responded, "Well, do you believe him?" And Ella had thought about it, remembering the look in Ethan's eyes, the gravity in his voice, when he told her he was here to stay. The facts, that he'd bought a house, that he'd set up shop for his non-profit in a funky little office south of Market Street in San Francisco, that he'd re-established all his old ties with the friends he still had in the area. "Yes," she'd said. "Well, then," Artemis had responded. "There you go."

And in the end, as the weeks had gone by, Ella became more and more certain that she wanted very much to be with Ethan. He and Ella had joined Andy and Artemis for some grown-up fun, when they were up visiting from southern California and Artemis' parents were watching the baby. That dynamic felt good.

And one of Ethan's friends was getting married, so he'd asked Ella to be his 'plus-one' for the wedding, and that had been fun. It was a friend of Ethan's that Ella had known, back in the day, so it was nice to get to attend the wedding. Some of the friends had asked discreetly if they were back together, and Ella or Ethan had shaken their head and said no. But it was with that sense of having a secret, knowing that maybe it was yes, really. When they'd danced together at the reception, Ella certainly felt the way she had, back when she'd been romantically involved with Ethan.

And in between all that, Ella had been helping him set up his new place, including helping him pick out furniture, accents, drapes, rugs. By the time she'd received Steve's letter, Ella realized she'd had a hand in the interior design of the place, and that was what Ethan had wanted. Because if she did get serious about him again, then maybe it would be her place, too. Somehow hearing that Steve was all right helped her feel better about a conclusion she was already coming to: she did want to get serious about Ethan.

So then there was more kissing interspersed with the interior decorating, some of which had gotten fairly passionate... and Ella could tell that her body, too, remembered what it liked about Ethan.

And finally, in early November, she just told him yes, straight out.

The joy in Ethan's face was almost unbearable to look at. So Ella just kissed him instead, for a long time. Eventually she broke out of the kiss to catch her breath, and reached up to trace the line of his jaw, to stroke his neck. "I'm pretty lucky," she whispered, and kissed him again. "So am I," he murmured. "So am I."

They kissed a little longer, and it started to feel more... urgent. Ella suddenly had a thought. She said, “Ethan...”

“Mmmm?” he responded, leaning in to kiss her on the neck. She felt a shiver of pleasure run all over her body. “Ethan, you said you were interested in having kids?”

He pulled back and looked at her seriously. “Yes,” he said, a questioning look on his face. Then the light went on. “Do... do you want to try to make one right now?” Ethan asked her.

Ella nodded tentatively. “It’s about the right time of the month for it. And... we’d both talked about wanting kids sooner rather than later.”

Ethan sighed softly, and put a hand to her cheek. He looked into her eyes and said, “I want nothing in the world more than to build a family with you. Yes, let’s start now.” On the last part, his look shifted from earnest and serious to flirtatious and sly. 

Ella laughed low in her throat, and then stepped back to the armchair in the living room and sat down in it. She admitted to herself that when they’d been picking out this particular piece, she had been thinking of the potential for this kind of activity, and had made sure that the chair would be big enough. She leaned back, adjusting herself and arching her back a little, letting her shirt shift to show more cleavage.

"Mmmm," Ethan said. "Very nice." He slid onto the chair with Ella and gently reached inside her shirt to cup a breast and squeeze it gently. He ran his thumb over her nipple through the lycra of her under-shirt, and she felt a shiver run down her spine and a tingle start in her loins. The fabric was smooth and soft, and as he did it again, she felt the nipple start to stretch the fabric as it hardened. Ella sighed with pleasure; Ethan remembered what she liked, and she remembered that he knew just how to do it. She reached out to his pants and started to undo the buttons.

Ethan pushed his hips forward to give her better access, and she succeeded in unfastening everything and pulled the fabric aside, revealing his already hardening cock. Ella stroked it a little and he hummed with pleasure. She pushed up in the chair, leaning her head forward and pulling his cock out of his pants. She set her lips on the head and sucked lightly, and Ethan’s humming melted into a moan, and the hand on her breast squeezed spasmodically. Ella sunk her mouth further onto it and sucked and stroked the underside of the head with her tongue, holding Ethan’s back with her free hand as she propped herself up with the other. He leaned into her, and she began giving head, first slowly, then faster and faster. She felt his cock firm up still further, and then with a final suck, she let it go and sank back down into the chair. He shed his pants, shoes, and socks, and finally the shirt. She’d always thought he looked good naked – lean, maybe a little too skinny, but nicely proportioned, and plenty agile and strong.

Ella climbed out of the chair, pulled her clothes off, underwear and all, and gestured for him to lay down in the armchair and tilt it back, which he did with look of anticipation. After Ethan was settled in, Ella straddled him.

She started by leaning forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head, giving him access to her breasts. He sucked at the nearest part, the tender skin just below the nipple, and slowly mouthed his way to it. He started by breathing moist air onto it, and then flicking it lightly with his tongue, but then Ella found herself begging him to suck on it, and then begging him to suck harder.

Ella felt herself get perilously close to coming, and squeezed Ethan’s shoulder. He gave one last wistful suck, and let go, and she sank herself down towards his now-very-hard cock. She wanted to come with him inside her; it felt so good, and she remembered that it had been a favorite of his, too, all those years ago.

Ella slid down his chest, feeling her wet vulva trail arousal fluid all the way down, until she found the head of his cock with it. Ethan moaned. She began working her pelvis back and forth, coating the head of his cock with her wetness, and introducing it a little bit in between her labia, and then a little more, and then a little more. 

Finally, Ella pushed downwards and felt Ethan’s cock surge into her. He moaned deeply and thrust it upwards, and she clenched her muscles around it and came, delightfully, in a cascade of spasms and rapid breathing and crying out. He didn't move for a minute as she clenched and unclenched, some consciously and some unconsciously. Then, after she'd rested and the sensations faded a bit (he seemed to remember how long to wait, too), he started to move, and she moved against him, and she felt him harden even more, and he moaned, and breathed hard, and she came again, even more intensely than the first time.

This time Ethan paused with some difficulty, but almost as soon as he stopped moving, Ella reached down and slid her tongue into his open mouth, and as they twined together at the mouth, she began urgently pulling upwards on his cock with her interior muscles, pulling, pulling, pulling again, and felt him respond, and then suddenly he was making the sounds that told her he was close to coming, so she pulled back from his mouth and dropped her pelvis down, bringing the right pressure, and clenched her muscles in just the right way, and had the great satisfaction of a drawn-out and deeply pleasurable intense orgasm, simultaneous with his.

They lay there on the armchair for some time, catching their breath. Ethan finally sighed, and turned his head, kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you," he said. Ella responded, "Thank YOU." He offered her a hand and she took it, used it to lever herself up, feeling one last shiver of pleasure as she pulled herself off of him, and climbed out of the chair. Ella offered her hand back, and helped him out of the chair too. They headed off to the bathroom to clean up. And Ella spent that night at Ethan’s place.


	35. Chapter 35

Steve had just gotten back from an operation with the team, and was trying to relax in his rooms at the Avengers compound. He looked out his windows at the January snow for a moment, before taking a look at the pile of mail on the table. Nothing that looked too important, as he flipped through some fan-mail and some official government correspondence. Ah, but Nat had swung by his P.O. Box in Jersey, he saw. (Nat was the only other person here who knew about it.) And there was a letter from Ella.

Ella’s letters had gotten less frequent, but no less satisfying, over the last three months. At first, he’d been unhappy when she’d told him Ethan had come back. But then Steve had asked himself what he could reasonably ask of Ella, and then he thought about his own lost chance with Peggy. How could he do that to someone else? Especially someone he loved as much as he loved Ella.

So he did his best to let go of any expectation he might have been harboring. He dove into his work with the team. He threw himself into trying to track down Rumlow. He went to see Peggy, a few times, too, and though she had remained unresponsive all this time, she was still hanging in there. Her body just didn’t want to quit living, he thought. Sometimes he felt like his was like that, too. No matter how great the injury, physical or emotional, his body would just heal up and prompt him to keep going. He found himself passing the time visiting Peggy by telling her about his life, since she would have wanted to know that he was trying his best to get on with living it, not waiting up for her. Sometimes he told her about Ella, though he never named her in case someone could hear him.

He and the team were having trouble getting anywhere useful on finding Rumlow, though. They’d turn something up, and then find the trail cold again, too quickly to gain any momentum on catching him. Steve found himself staring out the window again, feeling frustrated. So he tried not to think about that. He decided to distract himself by reading Ella’s letter. That was always a pleasant diversion. She always had something interesting to say, and asked him thoughtful questions about what he was up to. Surprisingly successfully, too, given that she couldn’t ask anything specific and he couldn’t answer with anything specific.

Steve slit the envelope open and started to read. He got as far as “I have big news” and his eyes skipped a few words ahead; he had to stop and re-read it at least three times before he could feel it sink in.

Ella wrote: “I have big news: Ethan and I are pregnant! I’m expecting around July next year.” Steve felt a flood of conflicting emotions. It meant she would be much less available, the letters would come much less frequently, when the baby arrived. He was surprised how sad that made him. And there was also a feeling of additional disappointment he couldn’t quite name.

But then those feelings faded and he was left with a simple feeling of happiness. Good for them, he thought. I know how important having kids was to Ella. I know how much Ethan means to her.

And here she was, reassuring him again: “Remember that I’m still here for you! You’re still very important to me! So keep writing, please keep writing.” Steve laughed into the empty room. That was Ella’s mantra: I’ll be there for you if you need me. Actually, Steve thought, I guess it’s mine, too.

Ella also said, “I wanted to call you, because this seemed that important. But I did my best to share the excitement in writing. I know we want to play it safe.” He appreciated that.

Steve heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called.

Natasha came in and sat across the table from him. “So, what’s the news?” she asked, nodding at the letter.

Steve laughed. “Couldn’t keep your nose out of my affairs, could you?”

Natasha smiled at him, slyly raising just one corner of her mouth. “Of course. It’s in my job description. Right there, below ‘interrogation of hostile Asgardians’ and ‘destruction of insane Stark deathbots’: ‘keep tabs on Steve Rogers’ personal life.’ ”

Steve laughed harder. “I’m going to have to ask to see that job description, some day.”

Natasha folded her arms on the table and leaned in. “You’re avoiding the question. Tell me to buzz off, if it’s none of my business, but if you want to share, then spill it.”

“Fine,” Steve said, still smiling. He couldn’t quite make himself be irritated with Natasha for asking. After all, she’d known about Ella all along, and she’d helped him keep it discreet. And Natasha was the one who had delivered this particular letter. “Ella’s pregnant.”

Natasha’s face was a mix of emotions. Steve had still never heard all the details of her home life, or the training she’d undergone back in Russia. He did know, however, that the kind of pain she’d endured to get her abilities had been more prolonged, and more psychological, than the pain he’d endured from his transformation. In general, he made it a point not to ask the details. But she’d let some things slip, and he knew she was particularly attached to Clint’s family. So her reactions to news regarding families always seemed... conflicted.

But Natasha controlled it all quickly and said, “That’s great, I’m happy for her.”

“So am I,” Steve said. He felt happy enough, but something in his voice must have given away the disappointment he still felt a little of.

Natasha leaned back, arms still crossed. “Steve...”

“What?” he said defensively. “I know when you’re lying, you know,” she said, eyebrow arched.

"You mean, because you're a master interrogator?" Steve teased, trying to fend her off. "No," Natasha said, "Because I'm your friend. Though the interrogation skills do help."

Steve laughed, and then sighed. “All right, Nat, yes, there’s a part of me that is disappointed. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for them.”

Natasha nodded. “Fine, okay. Sorry I pushed you.” She was genuinely relenting, genuinely sorry. She knew his sore points just like he knew hers.

“Well, anyway, I’m glad it’s good news from her.” She paused for a few minutes. Then she said, “I *also* have a few preliminary details on what could maybe be a possible lead on Rumlow.”

Steve’s attention immediately sharpened. “Do tell,” he said. Natasha started to relay all the details to him, and he snapped into work mode. The last non-work thought he had that afternoon was that it was just as well that Ella had her own life... he really did have a lot to do here.


	36. Chapter 36

### Part Ten

__

_May 18th, 2016_

_Dear Ella,_

_Sorry for the long letter. And I see that you wrote me back in April with something urgent, and I’m really sorry it took so long to get back to you. In April that project I was telling you about started to get going pretty fast, and then... I think you might have seen on the news that, well, some things happened in Europe recently. So I haven’t been able to check my mail for some time._

_I can’t tell you all the details of what happened. But I can tell you that we found Bucky. He’s safe. And my team... the ones who came with me... well, they’re safe now too. But we kind of came down on the wrong side of the law. So now we’re staying off the grid. If you need to reach me, you’ll have to contact Sharon Carter. Her phone number is on the card I enclosed. She’ll know the best way to get ahold of me, and I’ve told her to expect your call. So... if whatever it was that was so urgent back in April is still important, you can let her know about it, and she’ll let me know._

_Funny thing about Sharon, by the way: she’s Peggy’s niece. And she was also the nurse across the hall in DC. I thought you’d appreciate the humor of that. Also... Peggy finally passed. I thought you might want to know that. Thank you again for all your support when I was dealing with her stroke and... well, trying to let go of her. It made it a little bit easier, when she actually passed._

_I also thought you might like the fact that I thought of you, because I had to write one of these letters to Tony. We... unfortunately we ended up on opposite sides of this one. I also can’t say much about that, but Tony ended up hurt pretty bad, and I’m far from innocent. But knowing how much your letters have meant to me over the years, and how it turned out to be a way to stay in touch, off the radar... it made it the natural choice to write to Tony in the same way. And just like you’re always telling me that you’ll be there if I need you... I told him that, too. So, thanks for giving me the idea to do it, by example._

_It was real bad business, I’ve got to tell you. Tony had his reasons to choose what he did, and I had mine. I saw the reason why the Accords were necessary... but I’ve seen that kind of oversight go wrong too many times. And already the things that were happening were things I couldn’t let happen on my watch. I’m sorry it cost me so many friendships, and I’m sorry it means I’ll be harder for you to reach. But I felt it had to be done. I hope you’ll understand, and you know I’ll be thinking of you._

_Love,_

_Steve_

__

~*~

It was bad time for Sharon to need to meet with him, that particular week, but she’d contacted him, said she had something important for him. It was too soon for Ella to have received Sharon’s contact information – with how circuitous the process was of getting a letter to California, especially now that Steve and the team were on the run, he didn’t expect that Ella would get his letter until at least June. He felt a little bad about that, given how long ago she had written, but it was the best he could do. 

In any case, Sharon told him that the thing she needed to share had to do with Peggy. Wasn’t urgent, but was important. So Steve did what he needed to in order to set the team up to hide out in a nearby motel, and went out into Prague to find the place Sharon had told him to meet her.

He sat in the cafe, hiding his face with the menu, even though he knew with the beard and longer hair that no one would recognize him. Sharon, though... she would recognize him. She’d seen him already once, when he’d come to arrange with her to be available for Ella and a few others to contact if they needed him (and of course, she’d been glad to do it). Steve had already gotten pretty shaggy by the point Sharon had seen him then. He wondered idly what she'd think of his current look.

But there she was, suddenly, standing to the side of the table, wearing shades and a hat. Steve smiled; Sharon had certainly inherited (and honed) Peggy’s skills. Her stealth and logistical skill was pretty impressive, he thought.

Sharon sat down next to him. She said, “Getting kinda long in the tooth, there, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “Well, it’s for disguise. I swear it’s not just laziness.”

Sharon laughed. “Hard to imagine you being lazy. Like, ever.”

“You’d be surprised... I’ve actually had a vacation, once or twice, in my life,” Steve said. “But only once or twice,” he allowed. Sharon laughed again.

They smiled at each other for a minute, and he thought how beautiful she was. Peggy had been her aunt by blood, and there were some similarities in facial structure. But Sharon had a style all her own, even if did echo Peggy’s.

Steve broke the silence, “So, what is this important thing regarding Peggy?”

Sharon said, “Oh! Well, we were going through her things, you know, after the funeral. And I found these.” Sharon took out a few old letters in sealed envelopes. They said ‘Steve Rogers’ on the front, with no address; but the return address was Peggy’s.

Steve looked up at Sharon, and Sharon had a kind of sad, wistful look on her face. “My guess is that she wrote them to you, after you were gone, and of course there was never anywhere to send them, so she just... kept them. She had a lot of little keepsakes of you around, actually. I didn’t bring them all because I know you need to travel light. But I thought these might be worth a look.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks, Sharon.” She said, “No problem.”

They sat a few minutes longer, and then Steve said, “Look, I would love to stay, but the longer I’m out in the open, the more likely some facial recognition on someone’s phone or security system will I.D. me.”

Sharon said, “Of course.” They stood and walked in different directions away from the cafe; Steve made his way to an alley that led back towards where the team was.

Sharon surprised him by meeting him at the end of the alley. She smirked at him and said, “Well, I did want to have a *little* more time with you this time than the last couple of times we’ve met. I don’t think you’ll get I.D.ed back here.” The last time, there hadn’t been much opportunity for privacy with Sharon; and he and the team had just started being on the run. Steve had slipped in a kiss on her cheek and a hug, and that was all. He decided he had a few minutes, this time...

So Steve smiled down at Sharon, and she stepped close, forcing him to step into the shadow of a doorway, and he wasted no time leaning down to kiss her, deeply. After a moment, she stopped him and said, “I will say I’m not the biggest fan of the beard. So scratchy.”

Steve laughed and said, “Unfortunately comes with the territory, at the moment.”

Sharon laughed too, and they resumed kissing in the relative privacy of the alley. Steve hadn’t felt this aroused since he’d been with Ella... though admittedly he’d been trying to keep that part of him on hold while they were tracking Rumlow, and then when they were dealing with the Accords, and Zemo... and now they were on the run all the time. 

But Sharon knew him, knew his circumstances. Sharon could hold her own in a fight. Sharon was who she was partly because of Peggy, just like him. Steve was overwhelmed in that moment by desire for her, and frustrated by the knowledge that he would have to break this off and head back to the team, any minute now. Any minute now.

Sharon was at least as assertive as Ella had been, or more so. A couple of times, Steve tried to break away, and Sharon wouldn’t let him. Then eventually he actually gently pushed her away. “Sharon, I’m really sorry, but I do have to go.”

She nodded sadly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I know you do. Thanks for letting me steal a little of your time.”

Steve laughed, stroked Sharon’s cheek with the back of a finger. “It isn't stealing if you want to give it away. I wish I had more time. Maybe we can arrange for that, the next time you visit?” Sharon nodded, and said, “I would like that.”

Steve nodded, kissed Sharon quickly, and then turned to go. He didn’t see her leave, but knew she’d done so just as skillfully as she had appeared a few minutes ago.

He tried to calm his libido down, and he’d mostly succeeded by the time he got back to the motel.

As Steve walked in to Natasha and Wanda’s room to check in, Natasha looked over at him and smirked. Well, she’d’ve guessed what was up anyway (literally or figuratively); she knew who he’d gone to see. Steve just raised an eyebrow at her, took it for granted that if she didn’t say anything, then there was nothing to report. Wanda, strangely, was nowhere to be seen, but he trusted that Natasha had tabs on her and it was nothing to worry about. So he went to the room he was sharing with Sam.

Steve sat down on the bed and stared at the letters for a little while. Sam came over to see what was going on, took one look at the envelope, and at the look on Steve’s face, and said, “I’ll be hanging with Nat. Let me know if you... need anything.” Steve looked up, nodded gratefully, and said, “Thanks, Sam.” Sam gave him a casual little salute and left the room. Steve could hear him knock on the door of Nat’s room and say, “Ladies, I hope you don’t mind a little company...” Nat said something in response but Steve couldn’t make it out, and wasn’t really trying. He was distracted, now, with the speculation about what he might find inside these envelopes.

So, with a little trepidation, Steve opened one of the letters. It was dated August 1950. It started, “Dear Steve, I know you’ll never read this. I’m writing this because I need to have some kind of closure. I miss you so much. I wish there had been some way for us to be together. I tell myself you were being so pig-headed, to crash-land that plane... but then I tell myself that that was just the kind of thing that made both Dr. Erskine and I believe in you. It was why I loved you.”

Steve stopped there. He could feel tears starting to well up, and he went to the bathroom for some tissues. He sat down again and continued to read: “Howard and Colonel Phillips approached me to build a new agency, a successor to the Strategic Science Reserve. We’re thinking of calling it SHIELD. (That was Howard’s idea.) We’ve got a great start on it already. I... I think you’d be proud.”

Steve felt a wave of remorse, realizing that even when they started SHIELD, even as Peggy had been writing these words, Zola was already there, already planting the seeds of HYDRA. Already doing terrible things to Bucky. If he could just have stopped those things... well, that line of reasoning was useless. He kept reading. 

“At any rate, I’ve moved on, professionally. But I can tell I haven’t moved on, emotionally. Some part of me is still holding out, somehow hoping you’re still alive. Even though I know it’s impossible. So. I am going to have to let you go. I’m going to have to move on. Find a way to make a new life for myself, be whole without you. I hope you’d understand. I think you would. You have that selfless streak, you know.” 

Steve laughed. He could imagine the teasing way Peggy would have said it, smiling at him. She couldn’t have known, of course, that he had been still alive, in the ice. He slowly traced a finger over the words ‘I know you’ll never read this.’ He’d written something very similar, writing a very similar letter, all those months ago, at Ella’s suggestion.

The letter ended: “Well, I do feel a little better, having written this. Love, Peggy.”

Steve put the letter down, and then let the sobs come, keeping them quiet, mopping up the tears with the tissues. Somewhere in the middle of that, there was a soft knock at the door, and Natasha let herself in. She said, quietly, “Sam told me there were old letters, and he saw Peggy’s name on the return address. You okay?”

Steve shook his head wordlessly. Natasha came and sat with him on the bed, and put her hand on his knee. He put his hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze. 

“C’mon,” Natasha said, and pulled him into a hug. “We’re here for you, you know?”

Steve pulled in an irregular breath. He said, “I know, Nat, I know. And I’m glad.” They sat like that for quite some time.


	37. Chapter 37

It was months later, early August, before Steve was able to finally get to California to see Ella. Steve was somewhat nervous, when he stood at the door of the house in El Cerrito. Ella had told him it was Ethan’s house, back when they’d still been able to correspond regularly. And it was Ethan who opened the door after Steve rung the bell.

Steve couldn’t help sizing him up; Ethan was not as tall as he was, but trim, lean, and strong. An attractive guy, Steve thought. He was holding a little baby boy, who to Steve’s unfamiliar eye, looked to be Ethan’s. Of course. It had been so many months since Ella had told him about the pregnancy. Of course the baby would have been born by now.

Natasha had told him that kids often look like their fathers, especially in the months right after their birth. Something about it being an evolutionary thing: so a father wouldn’t reject the offspring as not his own. Nat had said that Clint’s kids looked like him, when they were babies. She’d said it with a kind of tenderness that reflected how important Clint and his family were to her. But, as Steve looked at Ethan standing there with the baby, he thought that the little one did remind him of Ella, a little, too.

Ethan started to say, “Can I help you?” but halfway through it, recognized him. Steve was impressed; with the beard and long hair, he looked very different from the publicity shots most people were familiar with. But, Steve realized, Ella probably did have a few photos of him from back when they were dating, and he’d had facial hair then, too. It hadn’t been quite this long, of course. But he would have thought that Ella wouldn’t have told Ethan who he was, to help keep Ethan safe. Puzzling.

But Steve didn’t have time to think further, because Ethan held out a hand and said softly, looking around to see if anyone was within earshot, “Captain Rogers, it is a *profound* pleasure to meet you.” 

Steve, surprised, took Ethan’s hand. Ethan smiled at him; the handshake was very warm and enthusiastic without being overly so. It felt quite genuine. Ethan said to Steve, “You’ve doubtless guessed that I am Ethan. And this,” and he held up the baby boy, “Is Thomas.” Ethan had a pleasant British accent. Reminded Steve a bit of Vision, he thought. Though that thought was a little painful, after the battle in Leipzig airport.

But Steve said to Ethan, “The pleasure’s all mine.” Ethan replied, “Won’t you come in?” Steve nodded and followed Ethan into his home.

Steve saw almost immediately that it was Ella’s home, too. The décor, the furnishings, the sensibilities... they all reminded him strongly of the little apartment where he’d lived with her, a year ago. And he recognized some of her possessions that had found there way here; as he passed the living room, he saw the beat-up old coffee table they’d sat at to eat and talk and play games.

Ethan called, “Love, you have... a visitor. I think you’d better get down here.”

“Be right there!” she called from somewhere upstairs. Steve was surprised at the ache he felt when he heard Ella’s voice. He’d missed her more than he realized. And not just the physical intimacy... he missed the simple ability to call her up when he was feeling confused, lost, or sad... And it had been a long time since he could do that freely.

But he was entirely unprepared for what happened next. Ella’s voice had disturbed Thomas; he started to fuss and cry a little, and Ethan tried to soothe him, bouncing him a little in his arms. That wasn’t the surprising part.

The surprising part was the sound of a second baby crying in response, upstairs. Twins, Steve thought? Steve didn’t know of a history of twins in Ella’s family; maybe twins ran in Ethan’s family? And as Ella came down the stairs, Steve saw she was in fact holding a second child. Steve saw her react to seeing him; though he’d warned her that he’d try to get there when he could and he didn’t know when that would be, there had been no way to send word that he would be arriving soon. And Steve felt a kind of thrill wash over him, seeing her in person again. He had definitely missed her.

But the pleasant shock of seeing Ella again was entirely dwarfed by the sight, as she got close enough, that Ethan was very definitely not the father of the other baby.

Ella looked a little nervous as she came to stand next to Steve. She turned the baby – a girl, he saw – so he could see the little one’s face. And even if the lighter skin-tone wouldn’t have given it away, Steve could see right away that the child had his eyes. Natasha was right, you could recognize your own offspring, even when no one warned you about it in advance.

Ella said to him, very softly, “This is Sarah.” Steve reeled for a moment, then put his hand out, clutching Ella’s shoulder. All he could get out was, “How?”

Ella shook her head, shifting Sarah to one side, and reaching with her now-free arm to clasp Steve’s arm in return. She said, “You and I were plenty careful about this. The only thing I can figure is that despite our best efforts, it has something to do with the serum. And the timing. I even thought I’d had my period, after you left. But the midwife told me later that you can have breakthrough bleeding... and, I think that this one just really wanted to live.” She smiled down at the baby, who had entirely stopped fussing and looked quite relaxed. Serene, in fact. 

Ella went on, “We didn’t find out until the ultrasound that there were two, and one was about a month older than we expected... that’s when I sent you the letter. You can see why I didn’t want to say what was going on in writing, or even over the phone to Sharon. No one else knows, other than Ethan, though Artemis will guess, when she finally sees the baby.” 

Steve knew that Ella had told Artemis about him, so that made sense; it couldn’t be helped. “We told the midwife that we don’t know who the father is, and the birth certificate just doesn’t list anyone as the father. My parents don’t even know.” Then Ella was silent for a moment, watching him cautiously.

The whole thing sunk in, all at once. Steve felt a rare moment of panic. “My God, Ella... what will we do?” he said. “I can’t stay, I’m a fugitive! The U.S. government would throw me in prison, if they caught me here. And... my team needs me, too...”

Ella shook her head again and squeezed his arm. “We’ll figure something out. Can you stay, for just a little while?” Steve nodded, panic subsiding a little. And then all at once, he swept her and the baby into an embrace he didn’t know he needed.

And it felt so good to hold Ella close, for the first time in almost a year. Steve touched his forehead to hers, and a few tears crept out. He could feel Sarah squirm a little against the tight embrace of her parents, and he could feel little hands grab for purchase against him and against her mother.

Suddenly he remembered the name. He murmured to Ella, “You remembered. You named her after my mother.” Ella said softly in his ear, “Yes.”

Not sure what to say, and still absorbing the enormity of the situation, all Steve managed was, “Thanks.” Ella laughed tearfully and said, “No problem. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

He laughed a bit in return.

Ethan cleared his throat tentatively, and said gently, “Can I... perhaps make some tea for everyone?” Now Steve laughed a little more freely and said to Ella, “I see why you like him.” He let her and Sarah go, and Ella laughed and answered, “One of many reasons, yes.”

Steve smiled and turned to Ethan, saying, “Yes, tea would be great. Do you have peppermint, still?” Ethan nodded. 

Then Ethan hesitated a moment, and said to Steve, “I’m not sure if this is welcome, at the moment, or if it’s too soon to say this, but... let me be the first to offer my congratulations, Captain Rogers,” and he nodded in the direction of Ella and Sarah.

Steve laughed at the absurdity of the situation, though there was a little of the tearfulness at the back of it. He said to Ethan, reaching out to shake his hand, “Thanks, Ethan. And you can just call me Steve.”

“Steve.” Ethan smiled, and then said, “Let’s get that tea on the way, then, shall we?”

And with that, they all moved towards the kitchen and made themselves comfortable. They had a lot to talk about.


	38. Chapter 38

Steve said he could stay with them for two weeks. He couldn’t push it much longer than that, but he told Ella and Ethan that he’d send word to the team through Sharon that he’d be delayed getting back to meet them in Europe. 

Ella found it restorative to be with Steve and Ethan and the babies. The labor had been a hard one, and long. The midwife had at one point suggested they consider going to a hospital, because Ella was starting to tire. But Ella had been terrified of the thought of delivering Steve’s child in a hospital setting: whether they’d pressure her to say who the father was, whether they’d do tests on the baby, what their records might then say. She needed to have complete control over the process, and home birth had seemed like the best idea. The midwife they had already been working with had been supportive, and did her best to help Ella endure the process, and in the end, both babies had made it safely into the world and Ella hadn’t done too badly, either. The midwife had told her later that birthing twins at home was starting to be considered contraindicated, but that in her case it had seemed, going into it, that it would be all right. And in the end, she was proud of Ella. Ella was proud of herself, too. But exhausted.

So, having two adults around to manage the two babies was really helpful. But there was a kind of emotional or spiritual way in which it was easier with both of their fathers present, in particular. 

Steve slept in the third upstairs bedroom, and after a couple of nights, Ella found that Sarah slept better in the same room with him, so she moved Sarah’s co-sleeper to Steve’s room. Ella still had to come in to breastfeed in the middle of the night, though, and so that was the night she ended up falling asleep snuggled up against Steve.

When she woke up the next morning, and realized she was in the wrong bed, her first thought was to apologize to Steve. He looked down at her, though, as she opened her mouth, and pre-emptively said, “It’s okay.” Ella nodded, smiling tentatively. Then he said, “You once told me, that we should say something if we were uncomfortable with anything that was going on, and check in afterwards, too.”

Ella laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I.” Then Sarah fussed and Ella reached over to pull the baby close and feed her. It wouldn’t be long before her brother would need to eat, too, Ella thought.

Steve was watching her. Ella said to him, “Well, then you’re okay?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. You fell asleep on me, and... it was nice, just to hold you again. And it’s fine, now, too.” He paused. Then: “Though I am... sort of seeing Sharon.” Ella felt a little stab of jealousy, which was quickly followed by reminding herself that she had no claim on Steve; and Sharon, when Ella had called her, had seemed like a really great and quite sensible person. Sharon had responded very effectively and kindly to Ella’s panicked need to get ahold of Steve, even though Ella hadn’t explained to Sharon what the situation was, for fear of eavesdropping. If Sharon really was Peggy’s niece, then Ella couldn’t think of a better match for Steve.

So she said, “That’s great.” Steve chuckled and raised an eyebrow at her. Ella sighed. She had never been great at hiding her reactions, in general, and Steve knew her well enough that it was basically impossible to hide her feelings from him.

“Fine. I really am happy for you. I... still miss you, though.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say that she still wished they could have some kind of romantic relationship. But then Steve stroked loose hair out of Ella’s face, and she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering all the times he’d done it in the past. It was a familiar, intimate gesture, and did signal to Ella a kind of awareness of what she meant by ‘missing him.’

Then Steve cleared his throat, and said, “I had a sort of awkward conversation with Ethan yesterday about something related to that. He said something that surprised me.”

Ella thought she might know where Steve was headed, but she waited for him to continue.

Steve said, “Ethan told me that he would be all right with it, if you and I continued our relationship, in whatever form we wanted.” He stopped and looked at her, uncertain. That furrow between his eyebrows had appeared.

Ella nodded. She said, “Yeah, we discussed it, once we knew what had happened with the babies. I didn’t know how you would feel about it, or whether we’d be able to even get ahold of you to tell you about Sarah, but if we did, and if you wanted... well, Ethan and I have quite a few friends with... non-traditional families.”

Steve still looked confused. “But he didn’t say what he meant, ‘continue our relationship.’ And what do you mean by non-traditional families?”

Sarah had finished feeding, so Ella sat up further in the bed to burp her. She looked down at Steve and said, “Well, some of our friends have open relationships, which means they’re committed to one person, but they also have other romantic or sexual or even just particular kinds of intimate relationships with other people. Or sometimes it’s a closed relationship, but there are more than two adults in the family.” The furrow deepened, but Steve looked less confused.

Ella chuckled a little at his consternation. Even with everything that had happened to him, these things still periodically caught Steve by surprise. Sarah fussed a little, and Ella held her out to him.

The furrow disappeared as Steve’s face erupted in that revelatory smile. He took his daughter from Ella and placed her on his chest, where she snuggled in, curled one arm under, and put one of her tiny hands against the t-shirt he’d slept in.

Steve tucked the blankets around her, and touched that tiny hand with a finger; Sarah reflexively gripped it. Steve gazed up at Ella again with a heartbreakingly vulnerable look in his eyes, like he still couldn’t believe this was a thing he could have, and it was the most wonderful thing he could imagine. Fatherhood, like most things, looked good on him. Even if it hadn’t been intentional.

Ella smiled back at him. Then, she continued, gently, “Anyway, our friends have said to us that they feel that they don’t want to limit their relationships, they want to let them evolve in whatever way feels natural. And they also subscribe to the belief that no one person can be everything to you.” 

Steve nodded, and Ella could already see him adapting to this information. She was again impressed with his ability to understand and work with the bizarre circumstances of his own life and how it was unfolding in this century.

Ella finished, “Anyway, the rules are all different for any one set of people, and they need to be negotiated and followed appropriately. This kind of arrangement relies on extremely open and clear communication, though.”

Steve nodded, “I can imagine it would. Fortunately, you’re one of the most communication-oriented people I know.” Ella laughed.

“You’re not wrong,” she said, teasing him. Then she added, “I’m not entirely sure what we ought to do, you and I, but one of my friends is married and has kids, and has a girlfriend he sees once a year or so because she lives on the other side of the country. This might not be so different from that.” 

Then she heard Thomas start crying in the other room. “I’ve gotta go feed her brother,” Ella said. Steve smiled and said, “Sure.”

Ella hesitated a moment, and then leaned down to kiss Steve on the cheek, softly. She murmured in his ear, “Anyway, think about it.” He caught her arm with his free hand and said, “I will.” Ella held her breath against the pang of yearning she felt at the look in his eyes as he gazed up at her. She nodded, he let go, and she went to feed Thomas. 

Ethan happily enfolded her in his arms as she did so; he murmured to her sleepily, “I did miss you last night, but it was fine. Was he all right with it?” Ella said, “Yes. He mentioned you telling him you were fine with polyamory. Apparently you didn’t actually bother to explain what you meant?”

Ethan reacted with mock offense, and said, “Well, I only met the man three days ago. And if everything you’ve told me about him is true, I thought it best for you to be the one to actually explain.”

“Fair point,” Ella allowed. Ethan was right, actually. It *did* make more sense for her to explain to Steve what Ethan had meant. She’d known Steve for two and a half years, now. She was in a better position to discuss it with him. “Still, it was awkward.”

Ethan sighed and stroked Ella’s shoulder. “Well, we don’t have a lot of time with him. We’ll need to get to the point rather quickly, I should think. And I wanted him to start with the idea that I was totally all right with whatever came of it.”

Ella smiled at him. She said, “Have I told you, recently, how much I love you?”

Ethan smiled back, leaned in to kiss her. “I believe you have, but it’s always lovely to hear it when you feel like sharing.” Ella laughed, and said, “Well, I love you very much. I am deeply grateful that you are my partner.” Ethan smiled and kissed her again. “And you know that the feeling is mutual, of course.”

“Yes, I do,” Ella said. And then they were silent for some time, each contemplating what to do about their rather extraordinary situation.


	39. Chapter 39

Several days later, the three of them were sitting downstairs in the kitchen. Miraculously, both babies were sleeping at the same time, a thing Steve had found out wasn’t that common, unfortunately. He couldn’t imagine how Ella was going to survive feeding the twins all the time. She’d started talking about pumping breastmilk, just so Ethan could feed one or the other baby when she wasn’t immediately around.

The implication was that Steve couldn’t be around. All three of them were painfully aware of that reality. Today, though, was the day that they collectively seemed to have decided to bring it up.

Ethan had just finished cooking lunch and making tea. “So, what *do* we do?” he asked, bringing the food and beverage to the table.

Ella sighed. “Well, let’s start with who knows what. The three of us know who Sarah’s father is. Artemis will guess, but I can still not tell her explicitly, and if I say that she shouldn’t ask, she’ll understand the situation.”

Steve spoke up. “I would bet that Sharon will guess, as well.” Ella nodded. “I think we can trust her to keep it under wraps?” she said, and Steve nodded, gratefully. Ella seemed to have a favorable impression of Sharon, and it surprised him how important that was to him. 

Ella picked up a fork to take a bite of the scrambled eggs Ethan had made. “Mm, they’re quite tasty, thank you, love! Nice and spicy.” Ethan dropped a kiss on the top of her head and sat across from her and Steve.

Ella said, “I feel that we should tell Sarah, when she’s old enough to understand.” The three of them were silent, digesting that thought. Steve considered the risks to Sarah, if she knew he was her father. If Sarah were older, and she could make careful choices based on the information...

Eventually Ethan said, “I don’t feel I should have a say in this part; but I will support whatever the two of you decide is right.”

Steve and Ella looked at each other. Finally, Steve said, “All right. When she’s eighteen, unless there is some clear reason to do it earlier or later?” Ella nodded.

Then she said, “Would it be all right if I told my parents, once Sarah knew?” Steve felt uncomfortable with the idea. He said, “I would prefer not. But maybe, when the time comes, we can discuss it. And... if I’m... not around, then I can trust your judgment on it.”

Ella nodded, smiling. “Thank you, Steve.”

Ethan put in, “What about Thomas? By then, he’d be eighteen as well.”

“Hmm,” Ella mused. Then Ethan said, “What do you two think about asking Sarah who should know, at that point? Start with her, and let her get used to the idea; explain the risks and benefits of knowing, and discuss with her who else she is comfortable telling about it?”

“That’s a great idea,” Steve said, smiling. It was really remarkably reassuring to have Ethan on his team. “After all, who are we to tell her who she wants to know about this; at least, after she’s of age to decide for herself.” Ethan smiled back at him, and Steve reached over to give Ethan a squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks, Ethan.” Then he looked back to Ella, who was uncharacteristically silent.

She looked over at Steve, and he could see she wasn’t happy. But then she said, “All right. We keep this between the three of us, plus Sharon, and Artemis by implication. When Sarah is eighteen, or some similar measure of maturity, we will tell her; and then we will discuss if anyone else should know. I... I propose that we also keep in our safe, a letter written to Sarah explaining who her father is, in case we aren’t around to tell her, when it’s time.” 

Steve had to agree that it was a reasonable point, because there were many reasons Sarah should have a way to know who her father was even if none of them were around to tell her. The chances of something going that wrong, where all three of them were dead or unavailable, seemed small, and putting it in writing seemed a little dangerous. But Steve couldn’t think of a better option, so he nodded, and said, “Agreed. We could secure it, key it to her, directly, so no one else can open it.” The others murmured assent. Steve knew the relevant tech, and knew how to get it, even if they didn’t. He’d take care of that part himself.

Then another thought occurred to him: “We don’t know if or how the serum might affect her physiology. I should give the two of you some pointers about how it affects me, and you can keep an eye out for those kinds of things. I don’t know if it will show up on standard blood tests, which would also tip people off about it.” Ella and Ethan nodded at him.

Then Ella said, “You really think Nat won’t figure it out?” Steve had mentioned that Natasha and Sam were with him, on the run, which was why Sharon was their contact point instead of Nat. Steve thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, smiling at Ella. “Yeah, she probably will. I won’t say anything, of course, but you know how she is. But I think we can trust her not to mention it.” Ella said, “I can believe that.”

They were all silent for a few minutes, each picking away at the food a bit. Finally Ethan said, “All right, let’s just get this out there. Steve,” and he paused, facing Steve. Not sure what he was about to say, Steve just said, “Ethan?”

Ethan took a deep breath. Then he said, holding Steve’s gaze the whole time:

“I would never presume. Know that, first. But. My impression of your situation is that you won’t be able to stay with us, to help raise your daughter. And it is also my impression that this pains you.” Steve nodded, feeling an uncomfortable sense of reality settle into his stomach. He had been ignoring all that, spending this week with them, being a real part of a family, spending time with his child and her mother. And Ethan was, himself, fast becoming a good friend.

Ethan went on, “So, I am offering, and I stress this again, only *offering* because I wouldn’t dare presume that this is what you would want, but I am offering to legally adopt Sarah, and help raise her in your stead. And if that is your wish, I can only hope to do justice to how you would have done it, yourself.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say. In a million years, he never would have dreamed he’d be in this situation. If he’d ever thought of having children, he never would have expected to be in a position where he couldn’t raise them himself. But the truth of the matter was... he really couldn’t stay. And he had no idea when he would be able to return, or even if he could or should return. Obviously he couldn’t take Sarah with him, even if Ella had wanted him to, for some reason. His life on the run was no place for a baby, or even a child of any age.

And even in the short time they’d been directly acquainted, Ethan had made a real impression on Steve as someone he could trust. And that impression was also based on the many times Ella had told Steve about Ethan, when she and Steve had been dating. Steve had always had a good impression of Ethan, even before meeting him. And now… Ethan felt like someone Steve could count on to raise his daughter in a way similar to how he would have done it. As he sat there contemplating what Ethan had just said to him, he realized that he’d be hard-pressed to come up with someone he would trust more to help with this particular task in this particular situation.

So, Steve stood up, walked around the table, and put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Looking down at him, Steve said, “Ethan, I’d be honored if you would be Sarah’s adoptive father.”

Ethan visibly relaxed. He stood, too, and Steve held out a hand to shake. Ethan ignored that and threw his arms around Steve, who very gladly returned the sentiment.

Steve said quietly to Ethan, “And thank you.” Ethan laughed, relief still evident in his voice. “You’re quite welcome.” They pulled apart, still holding each others’ arms, and Steve found himself a little unwilling to break eye contact. Ethan’s support had a grounding, stabilizing effect. No wonder Ella loved him so much.

Ethan added, “And, you know, if your conditions change, you are always welcome here. You know we would welcome you here.” Steve nodded, gave Ethan’s arms a squeeze, and then went back to sit down and finish eating. The eggs *were* good... probably spicier than Steve would have made them, but tasty nonetheless and definitely not beyond his tolerance.

It was a few moments later that he looked sideways across the table at Ella. She wasn’t crying, exactly, but her eyes were bright with tears. Steve hazarded that she was happy that the two of them got along as well as they did; and happy that Steve welcomed Ethan’s help in raising his daughter. It was actually hard to imagine any other way it could have gone, practically speaking, but it was certainly better to feel like everyone was reasonably happy with the situation, given the constraints. 

Steve had been thinking about the offer to continue his romantic relationship with Ella, in some form. It was the kind of arrangement he would never have considered, back in his time. But his life had... not come out as he had expected it to. Maybe he could never settle down, have a quiet life. But maybe this was the life he could and did have, and it did have important people in it, people he loved and trusted. Maybe he would have to piece his life together, in stolen moments with those people. Who knew how Sharon would feel about it, of course, but she also knew his situation. And he hadn’t yet made any specific commitments to her.

So maybe he ought to take this opportunity Ethan and Ella were offering, to be a part of their family, to be another partner to Ella, even if he could only be there intermittently. And maybe he could talk to Sharon about it, the next time he saw her. If Sharon wasn’t okay with it, well, he also knew he could stay friends with Ella, too. After all, they’d managed to stay friends after breaking up.

All that flowed through his mind as he looked Ella in the eyes. The mother of his child, and one of the best friends he still had in the world. Someone he loved, deeply, and trusted, deeply. Someone who had always been there for him. If she still wanted him to be more than a friend, if she wanted the intimacy they’d had... then why deny himself, and her, that potential? He was reminded, yet again, of his lost chance with Peggy. If people were all right with these... how had Ella put it, non-traditional? arrangements, then he’d be a fool not to go with it.

So he smiled at Ella. He saw her smile back. Something about this exchange must have communicated his feelings to her, because she slowly put her fork down, and stood up. She stepped close to him. And he reached up to take her hands and pull her down to him. She gladly sank down, half-sitting on his knee – just as she had, the day before he’d had to leave, last year. She tentatively reached out to trace the line of his jaw, under the rather thick beard he’d grown, but it felt very much like when she’d done it a year ago. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, just inside the arc of that faint battle scar from Bucky that was still there. 

Steve closed his eyes, and as Ella started to lean away, Steve leaned in, turned slightly, and kissed her softly on the lips.

It felt good; God, it felt so good. He loved kissing Sharon, when he had the chance. But there was still something about kissing Ella that felt satisfying in a way he couldn’t quite describe. The kiss was still a little chaste, for how good it felt, because a part of him did know that Ethan was sitting right there. It was an experiment, to see how it felt, to see how she reacted, to see how Ethan seemed to react.

So Steve pulled back, after a moment. Ella leaned up straight again, and he looked up into her face, which was shining with joy. Steve said to her, “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to come here... I still think it’s dangerous, every time, because I might draw attention to you.” Ella said, “I know. But when you *are* here, you know that you’re welcome.” She was maybe unintentionally mirroring Ethan’s earlier words, but as she said it, it felt like it was about so much more than staying with them. She meant that he was welcome in her heart, in her bed, in her family. Steve looked over at Ethan, and was surprised to see tears in the man’s eyes, and a big smile on his face.

Ethan stood, and said, “I’ll just leave you two some time, shall I?” and took the plates to the kitchen and then retreated to the downstairs office and shut the door.

Steve and Ella heard the babies start to cry, and she said to him, “Let’s go feed them, okay?” Steve nodded and followed her upstairs.


	40. Chapter 40

Ella fed the babies; and when they were safely napping in co-sleepers, she turned to Steve and leaned in to kiss him. She had missed him, more maybe than she’d let herself realize. And it was complicated by the fact that she’d unintentionally become the mother of his child. Seeing him, this week, had been feeding a part of her that had been starving. Feeling him kiss her back, feeling his body move against hers, was so familiar and so satisfying that it was hard to remember that she had to tell him to be very careful.

“The midwife told me to wait at least four weeks before having sex again,” she told him breathlessly, in between passionate bouts of kissing. Steve nodded, and said, smiling, “Okay, so this isn’t the time to try a lot of crazy positions or anything like that.” Ella laughed, remembering when she’d said something like that, a year ago.

Then Steve said, “We don’t have to...” but Ella stopped him by kissing him, hard. After a moment, she paused and said, “We’ll just go really slow. And you may remember we have some tricks to use instead that feel almost as good, if things are too sore for actual intercourse.” He chuckled softly and said, “Yes, I do remember.” And then there wasn’t much use for speech, for a while.

After they were done, they lay together, just resting, for quite some time. Ella had propped herself up on some pillows, and had her hand on Steve’s chest. He looked over at her, and said, “This does feel a little weird, I mean, Ethan’s just downstairs. I’m sure he could hear us.”

Ella laughed. “Well, after we knew about the twins, and we figured out what happened, I decided I’d better tell Ethan about you, who you were, how it all came to happen. And you know what he said?”

“No idea,” Steve answered. Ella laughed some more, and then admitted, looking sideways at him, “He said, ‘God, that’s hot.’ ”

Steve laughed, now, too. Then he said to her, “Do you know how bizarre this situation is to me?” Ella sighed, laughter winding down, and said, “Yeah, I can imagine. It’s pretty strange, even for me.” Then she got serious. If Steve wasn’t okay with it, they shouldn’t continue. So she asked him, “If it bothers you, then we don’t have to do it.”

Steve sighed. He said, “It just... I mean, I believe you, and I believe Ethan, when you say it’s fine. But it just feels a little like we’re cheating on him.”

Ella heard Thomas start to coo, behind her, and make sucking sounds. She sighed, and turned around to pick him up and feed him. She leaned back against the pillows, settling in as Thomas latched on and began to feed.

Ella looked over at Steve, who was watching with a kind of blissful look on his face. She said, “It’s not cheating if we follow the rules we set for ourselves, collectively.” Steve nodded, still looking a little uncertain.

“Well, then, what are the rules?” he asked.

Ella nodded. “Good question. It’s always better to be totally explicit. Ethan and I agreed that this would be okay,” she said, pointing at herself and Steve. “We were quite explicit that any and all intimacy was all right. Though we need to avoid any more children; I think this is complicated enough. I wasn’t sure how many I wanted to have in the first place, and now I have two.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, I’m fine with all that. What else?” 

Ella continued: “I don’t have any need to have partnerships with anyone other than you and Ethan. I’m not interested in dating other people, like some of my friends who are polyamorous often do.” She paused, let that sink in. She clarified, “You know me; I’m not even attracted to random people all that much. I hate ‘dating’ the way a lot of people do it, anyway.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I do know that about you. And, on my side... Sharon is okay?”

Ella said, “Definitely. She seems pretty great, from what little I know of her.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah. There was a moment, in the middle of all the mess a few months ago, where she was talking about Peggy, and about how she’d supported Sharon’s career... Sharon’s really taken the same ideals Peggy and I had, back in the day, and carried them forward. And she reminded me of those ideals, at just the right time. It was... actually, the way it felt – it was a little like when I used to be able to talk to you.”

Ella smiled at him. “Well, then I’m even more glad for you to have whatever relationship with her that you want. There are some health things associated with what fluids get shared with who, right? So we should talk about that at some point. But yes, you should go for it.” Steve chuckled at her.

“I’ll talk to her about it, the next time I see her,” he said. Ella added, “And... if she’s not okay with this, I don’t want you to have to choose between us. The thing that's most important to me is that you know you're welcome here, and that we support you as Sarah's co-parents. That you know how much I love you, that you remember that in dark times. Whether we get to be sexually intimate... well, it’s really nice, but if that’s a problem for Sharon, I’d gladly give that up to still be close to you.”

Steve levered himself up to kiss Ella, and she was lost in the sensations for a minute, the feeling of the baby nursing, and Steve’s mouth on hers.

Then he pulled away, and said, “I’ll do my best to follow the rules, then.”

Ella nodded, thoughtful for a moment. Setting the rules here was all well and good, but Steve’s conditions could always change. So she added, “Also... I know that your life is really unpredictable. You should act in whatever way seems right to you, when you’re out there, dealing with things. As long as you let me know what happened, like if you meet someone new...”

Steve squeezed her arm and said, “I’ll let you know. But, really... there are so few people who matter to me that I get to see at all, now. And you know *I’m* not likely to want to go out and date people, anyway. Even if I did, my current lifestyle doesn’t really offer me much opportunity to meet new people, at the moment.” He half-smiled at her, so she interpreted it as at least partly joking. 

So Ella laughed a little, and said, “Well, just... don’t let me hold you back. I’d just appreciate hearing about it later so I can see what I want to do about it – so we can re-evaluate rules and boundaries and things.” He nodded, and laid back in the bed, closing his eyes.

Thomas was done feeding, so Ella sat him up to burp, and sighed as she heard Sarah stirring, now.

As she shifted one baby back to the co-sleeper and picked up the other to feed, she glanced down at Steve, laying there. He looked relaxed, at least relatively speaking. It was clear to her that the last year had been a hard one for him; he had a few more scars and there was more pain lined in his face, even when he laid there, apparently relaxing.

Thomas fussed and Ella glanced over at him. She said, “Steve, would you mind?” and as he opened his eyes, she nodded to Thomas. He nodded and picked the baby up, holding him just as gently as he held Sarah. Thomas didn’t settle immediately, so Steve put him down for a second and went to pull on some pants, then picked Thomas back up and slowly walked around the room, bouncing him a little, just like Ethan did. That worked, and Thomas settled in and fell asleep on Steve.

Ella felt a wave of gratitude that Ethan and Steve got along so well. They’d both heard a lot about each other, of course, by the time they’d met. But she’d watched them develop a growing friendship and mutual respect, even over only a week, that was enormously rewarding to her.

Ella thought about what Steve had just said about there being so few people that mattered to him that he could actually go see. She said, softly, “I’m sorry to hear about Peggy’s passing.”

Steve looked over at her and nodded. “Thanks. It wasn’t unexpected, as you know.” Ella said, “Yes, but I’m sure it was still hard.” Steve nodded again.

“And... I’m also sorry to hear about Tony and you.” That hit a nerve; Steve looked away and was silent for a long time, rocking Thomas as he stood there.

Eventually, he swallowed hard, and said, ever so slightly unsteadily, “Thanks. I didn’t blame him for feeling like he did. And... it really was my fault it ended like it did. I could have told him, sooner, what I knew. It didn’t need to get to the point where we could be... leveraged against each other like that.”

Ella still wasn’t sure what had happened, so she waited to see if Steve would elaborate. 

He did: “It was Bucky,” Steve said, sitting down on the other side of the bed, maybe thinking of putting Thomas back in the co-sleeper. Instead, though, he kissed the top of the baby’s head and held him close, almost as if it reassured him, gave him strength to say what he wanted to say to Ella.

Steve sighed. “Bucky, when he was under HYDRA’s control as the Winter Soldier... he killed Tony’s parents.”

Ella drew in a shocked breath. She’d heard that Bucky was the Winter Soldier. At the time, she had thought about Steve and wondered how terrible that must have been for him to find out first that Bucky was alive, and then that he was an assassin under the control of his worst enemy. But this piece of information... Ella could barely take it in.

Steve looked over at her. He said, “Yeah. It was pretty bad. And... I never was entirely sure, until Zemo set us up, all three of us, to watch the tape of him doing it.” Ella felt a vicious stab of vicarious pain on Steve’s behalf, imagining how terrible that must have been. She hadn’t known Tony very well, back when she had spent some time with them all, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would take that news gracefully. She didn’t know who Zemo was, but clearly he had been a big part of tearing Steve and his friends apart. But Steve wasn’t finished, so she didn’t ask.

“But I realized that I really had known. There was really only one person, during that time, who could have pulled off an assassination like that. I fought him, during the downfall of SHIELD, and I saw what they’d done to him. Both in terms of physical skill, strength, and speed... and in terms of the mental conditioning. So when I was looking through some of the records, one day, the ones that Natasha had released to the world... I started piecing it together.”

He sighed, putting Thomas down in the co-sleeper, and stroking the little boy’s back with two fingers. Thomas settled in happily to sleep, and Steve came back to sit on the bed, next to Ella.

“But I couldn’t bring myself to tell Tony about it. I wish I had. I still wouldn’t have wanted to sign the Sokovia Accords, and that still would have put a wedge between us, but this? I... I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me. He sure as hell won’t ever forgive Bucky. And I can’t blame him.” Steve looked utterly miserable.

Ella said, “But you told me in your letter that Bucky was safe?”

Steve looked over at her, and then down at his hands. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. Then he sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “Yeah, at least there’s that. He’s in the care of some friends. He... he asked to go back under cryogenic freeze, until they could figure out how to remove the conditioning, so people like Zemo couldn’t use him like that, again. Until his mind was his own, again.”

Ella saw relief mixed in with the sadness in how Steve said it. And... something else? She wasn’t sure, but there was something about the way he talked about Bucky, now, that was different from when Steve had mentioned him to her before. Maybe it was that he knew Bucky was alive, and there was a chance Steve could really get his friend back.

Sarah was finished feeding, so Ella handed her and the burping cloth over to Steve, and went to go to the bathroom. She thought, sitting there, that Steve had lost so much, in his life... it was a wonder that he held together as well as he did.

When Ella returned, Steve had laid down in the bed, eyes closed again, with Sarah asleep on his stomach. Ella tucked a little blanket around Thomas, and then slid in next to Steve, drawing the bedclothes up around the three of them. She put her arm across Steve’s body, cradling Sarah.

Ella murmured to Steve, “Do you think your friends will be able to cure Bucky?” Steve sighed, and wrapped an arm around her, not bothering to open his eyes.

He said, contemplatively, “I think that if anyone can, they can.”

“Well, I hope they do. Maybe someday I could meet him?” Ella said.

That got Steve’s attention. He opened his eyes, turned to look at Ella. “Oh?”

Ella smirked at him. “I’d love to meet someone who knew you before and after your transformation, who knew you in the last century, and in this one. I’ll bet he’d have a lot to say about you,” she said, half-teasing and half-serious.

Steve smiled at her, and it was almost like he was a different person. There was a glint in his eyes that bespoke years of getting into and out of trouble, a sense that Bucky knew him better than anyone else in the world... and again, something else underneath it all she still couldn’t identify. But it seemed familiar.

Steve said, “Yeah, he’d have a story or two.” His grin really did look like the grin of a young twenty-something who had some stories in mind. He went on, “And... I’ll bet he’d love to meet you, too.”

“Of course, I would love to meet anyone you cared that much about, really.” Ella said. She thought for a moment, and then added, “It would be nice to meet Sharon in person, someday, too, if you didn’t think that would be too weird.” Steve nodded.

Ella chewed on her lower lip, and then said, “And... if they can cure Bucky, and you think it’s all right, I would be fine with you telling him about Sarah. If I were you, I’d have a hard time keeping something like that from my best friend.”

Steve smiled and gave her a squeeze. “Thanks,” he said. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but you’re right. And I suppose if I tell Bucky, it would only be fair for you to be able to actually tell Artemis.” Ella shook her head. “Art will know, anyway. I don’t need to tell her. And she’ll understand the need for secrecy. So yes, if you think it’s safe, and you want to... you can tell Bucky about us, and about Sarah.” Steve nodded and they lay there for a few more minutes, Sarah making endearing little sounds as she slept.

Eventually, Steve said speculatively, “Well, it’s a good thing you met me first. If they can get Bucky’s mind back under his control... well, he was quite the ladies’ man, back in the day. And long hair looks much better on him than it does on me.”

For once, Ella couldn’t tell if Steve was joking or not. But, there it was, again... something in his voice, in his facial expression, when he was talking about Bucky. Clearly Steve loved him, but that wasn’t all... 

Then she figured it out: it reminded Ella of how she felt about Artemis. That it was deep friendship bordering on romantic attraction. An appreciation for your loved one that led you to want intimacies of all kinds with them. Because there was a chance that Bucky could be himself again, Steve had a chance of having his friend back, in a way he must have assumed was impossible until now. And whatever relationship they had now wouldn’t be constrained by the social mores of the forties.

So she said, “I can tell how much you love him.” Steve cleared his throat, and said in a kind of gruff voice, “Yeah, yeah, I do.” And, after a moment went by, Ella ventured, “Steve... are you *in* love with him?”

“What?” he said, startled. Ella was worried that maybe she’d overstepped a bit. She backpedaled: “I... I’m sorry, I just... well, I feel like that about Artemis. She’s my best friend, and in many ways no one knows me better than she does. She’s there for me, especially when I’m in trouble. And... I love her more than a friend. Though we haven’t done much about that, in actuality. And there’s not really any opportunity for it, anymore.”

Steve was silent for a while, thinking about it. “If that were true... if I were in love with him... would that make me gay?” he asked, tentatively.

Ella wasn't quite sure how to handle this question. Though it sounded deceptively simple, the answer really wasn't. Did he care about the label, the identification? Or the practicality? Had he really had a chance to wrestle with these ideas before, or had it just not come up for him until now? Ella decided to start with, “Well, if realizing that you’re attracted to a man, romantically or physically, doesn’t change your attraction for me or Sharon, then that means you could be something more like bisexual. Like I am.” She paused, and then added, “But it's a complicated question. Worth thinking about what it means to you, whether you want to identify as gay, or bi, or something else. What it means for your relationships and what you want from them.” He looked at her.

“Huh,” Steve said. “How did you handle it, with Artemis?” Ella sighed.

“Well, there was only one time we did anything sexual. It was... pretty fantastic. But it did scare me... I was worried it would mess up our friendship.”

“Did it?” Steve asked.

Ella shook her head. “No, it didn’t. Sometimes there are awkward moments, I guess. But nothing worse then that. And... we started dating other people, and then she ended up marrying Andy, and I know he’s not up for a polyamorous or open relationship. So... I just stick with the fact that I love her deeply and we share an unbreakable bond, because of that.”

“Huh,” he said again. And then he was silent for a long time. At length, they both dozed off for a while.

Eventually both babies woke up and cried to be fed. Ella sighed and sent Steve out to find the special nursing pillow she and Ethan had gotten, designed specifically for breastfeeding twins, and started to get herself settled to feed them both at once.

She noticed with a little shock that it was dark out. They’d been upstairs since lunchtime, but now it was easily dinnertime. Funny how she always thought in terms of mealtimes, lately.

Steve came in with the pillow; she admired him, walking around shirtless. He saw her look, and chuckled. “Maybe later. What happened to taking it easy?”

Ella laughed and took the pillow from him, starting to settle Thomas on her right. “You’re right. But I’m within my rights to appreciate beauty when I see it.” Now Steve actually let loose with a big laugh. “What?” Ella said, settling Sarah in on her left.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, and said, “I’m just not sure I’ve heard ‘beauty’ applied to me before.” Ella smiled and reached with a free hand to trace up his arm, down his side. “I’ll bet I’m not the only one to think it, at least,” she said.

Steve smiled and leaned in to kiss her. As he leaned back, searching her face, his look shifted to one of deep sadness.

Ella asked, “What is it?”

Steve sighed and looked down. “I really can’t stay too much longer with you. And... I am really not sure if I should come back. Especially now, when we’re on the run. Clint – and Scott, too, you never met him – they both have families. They both paid high prices for helping me in Leipzig. I don’t want you and Ethan to be put in danger by anything that I do... or to be hounded by the government because they think you know where I am.”

The truth of his statement sunk in, and Ella felt her heart go through the floor. She nodded slowly. “And if you came back when Sarah was too young, what would we tell her about who you were? Even if we said you were an uncle, or another polyamorous partner... kids are really perceptive. I’ll bet she’d figure it out.”

Steve nodded and put his head in his hands. “I don’t want it to be true, but I don’t think I should come back... for a while.”

They were silent for a moment, and then Ella said, “I can send you letters, still, though? I can send them to Sharon?” Steve smiled at her through his not-quite-tears. “Yes, I would love that. And I’ll write back, when I can.”

Thomas was done feeding, so she shifted him to burping position, but Steve held out his hands to take care of it. Ella thought to herself that it was going to be a hell of a lot harder to manage both babies without both Steve and Ethan around. Sarah finished feeding only a moment or two later, and then Ella and Steve were sitting side by side at the edge of the bed, soothing the little ones. 

That was when Ethan knocked quietly on the door, and Ella called for him to come in.

Ethan’s initially tentative look dissolved into a deep expression of pleasure as he took in the sight of two of them with the two babies.

“Thanks for the help, Steve,” Ethan said, and came to sit next to him on the bed. Steve handed Thomas over to his father, and they all sat there in silence for a while, lined up along the edge of the bed.

Then Ella said, “Love, Steve has reminded me that he can only stay a little longer. And... we both think that maybe he ought to stay away for a while, given what’s going on with... his working situation.”

Ella could see that Ethan caught her drift; the reference to Steve moving away ‘for work’ just before the two of them had gotten back together.

Ethan put a hand on Steve’s shoulder and said, “I understand. But you should know you’re...” 

Steve interrupted, “Always welcome, I know. Believe me, I’d love to stay longer, and come back sooner. So... if I can, then I will. I might not be able to give you much warning beforehand, but...”

Ethan said, “Don’t let that stop you. We’ll make space and time for you, if you’re able to make it out here.”

Steve paused. “Ethan, are you sure you’re really okay with...?” and he gestured to himself and Ella.

Ethan smiled and said, “Of course. Why should I begrudge you any time with Ella, when I get all the rest of her time?”

Steve nodded. “So,” Ethan continued, “You’d better make the most of the rest of your visit, then.” Ella looked at Ethan, and then Steve. Ethan was smirking, but also quite serious. Steve looked surprised again, but then laughed and said, “All right, I’ll do my best.”

Ethan laughed and said, “I’m sure your best is more than enough.” And he handed Thomas back to Steve and stood. “I’ll go make us some dinner,” he said, and left the room.

Ella leaned over to Steve, kissed him on the cheek lingeringly, and said, “Enough – ha. I can never get enough of you, but I’ll take what I can get.” Steve looked over at her, and smiled.


	41. Chapter 41

###  Part Eleven 

_  
July 14th, 2017_

_Dear Sarah, our beloved daughter,_

_If you’re reading this, then for some reason we aren’t there to explain this to you on the occasion of your eighteenth birthday. We had hoped to have the opportunity to tell you about this in person, all three of us, but if that didn’t happen, it was most important to us to make sure you have this information._

_You know that your father adopted you soon after you were born. We told you that someday we’d share the identity of your biological father with you, and that’s what this letter is about. The reason we haven’t told you until now is because he has powerful enemies and a dangerous line of work, and he didn’t want to risk your safety until he felt you could understand what your parentage might mean._

_So, here it is: your biological father is Steve Rogers. As Captain America, he felt that if it were known that he had a daughter, you would become a target for his enemies. You should know that he loves you very much, and has been watching you from afar. He even came to visit when you were very young, a few times. Enclosed are the only pictures there are of the two of you together, one just a month after you were born, and the other when you were a year old. We wrote this letter when he came for that second visit, and we sealed the letter so that only you could open it._

_You haven't manifested many of his powers yet, but already you’re a quick healer, and much stronger than others your age, and who knows what additional things might arise as you get older. And you certainly already have his stubbornness! The other items we put in with this letter are some of his medical information, if you ever need it in the future, and especially if the serum that gives him his powers does end up affecting you._

_We hope you never have to read this letter, or that we are with you when you read it, but if that’s not the case, know that all of us have so much hope for your future, for your life. We know that there will be wonderful things ahead of you, and also challenges too. We hope that we have been able to support you when you needed us, even those of us who couldn’t be there in person._

_With all our love,_

_Ella, Ethan, and Steve  
_

~*~

It was cold, that day in Wakanda, when Steve came to visit Bucky and see how he was doing. The winters there were milder than in the United States or Europe, but November still lent a little bit of a bite to the air. 

It had been a year and a half since Steve had left Bucky with the Wakandan royal family. T’Challa had told Steve that he would be their honored guest on any occasion that he felt he could join them. Unfortunately it had been much more difficult to visit than he’d hoped; he’d only managed it once, early in the first year, and Bucky had still been unconscious while Shuri worked on his neural pathways. This would be the first time Steve had been able to visit since Bucky had been up on his feet.

As Steve stood at the edge of the village, far from the center of the city, Shuri said to him, “Captain Rogers, I think you will be pleased with your friend’s progress.” 

Steve nodded to her, feeling surprisingly nervous. “Why is he out here, instead of in the research facility?”

Shuri smiled at him. “Well, sometimes we can heal the body, and even the mind. And we have done that, already. But your friend... his spirit has been injured worst of all. And this is a better place for him to heal, out here under the sky, doing good work to help our people here. And I do come check on him quite often.” Steve smiled at her. “That sounds very wise,” he said. “And besides, who am I to question the best healer in all of Wakanda, anyway?”

Shuri laughed. “Ah, you are wiser than you look, Captain Rogers!” Steve chuckled, and as he looked back from Shuri to the village, that was when he saw Bucky, standing outside a thatched, round building.

Bucky had seen him, and was standing very still. Shuri’s demeanor became more serious, and she said, “He has some healing to do, yet. Be... gentle with him.” Steve nodded, not taking his eyes off his friend. Shuri started off towards the village and Steve followed her.

As they approached, Bucky seemed to rouse himself, and went back to whatever task he had been doing. As Steve got closer, he saw that it was bringing firewood from a pile outside, back into the building he’d come out of.

Bucky had returned to the wood pile as they got close. Steve stood there, and said, “Can I help?”

Bucky looked up at him as he gathered an armload – just one armload, Steve saw: Bucky didn’t have a prosthetic arm to replace the one he’d lost in the fight with Tony. Bucky nodded, and Steve picked up a modest amount of wood and followed his friend back into the building. Just before entering, Steve looked back at Shuri, who raised a hand to him in a traditional gesture of respect and goodwill. Steve nodded in return, and went inside.

It was a simple setup. A place where the fire would burn, but with an ingenious bit of technology (likely vibranium-derived) that channeled the smoke to the outside, keeping the air clean inside but allowing the Wakandans in this village to warm their homes on cold evenings in traditional ways, and to cook in traditional ways the foods that had nourished them for centuries. 

On that earlier visit, Shuri had told Steve that they’d tried maize (what he would have called corn, Steve realized after the fact), but it was nowhere near as good as the indigenous grains the Wakandans already cultivated. They’d watched as other African countries had corn shoved into their economies, subsidized by big ag companies in the U.S. and elsewhere, and by their own post-independence governments. It was one of T’Challa’s new initiatives to help the countries around them to revive their traditional foods, most of which were indigenous and better adapted to the local climate. Steve had thought that Ella would have deeply loved what T’Challa, Shuri, and their government were doing. 

Steve wished he could have told Ella more about them, but that was information he thought maybe shouldn’t be shared. At least, not yet. And if Wakanda continued to open up to the world, to share its technology and culture with other countries in Africa and beyond, Steve knew that Ella would be one of the people to hear about it. Hell, maybe she’d meet Shuri at a conference without ever even knowing that Steve knew them both. He’d read in a recent letter that Ella had decided to go back to work, now that the children were both a little over a year old. Ethan’s sister Naija had come to live with them and help care for the children for a while. So it wouldn’t be long before Ella was back up to speed, professionally, and she might find out about the Wakandan indigenous food initiatives.

On that same earlier visit, Shuri had told Steve that she had been forced to physically eliminate some of Bucky’s neural pathways that had been associated with the conditioning, especially the sensori-motor pathways associated with the physical acts he’d been forced to perform. She had hoped not to resort to that, but she’d told Steve that Bucky was strong, that his mind was resilient, even to the abuse he’d taken for all those years, and it would be better for him in the long run to reset parts of his brain. At the time, she had been mostly finished with that part of the process, and Steve had thought that Bucky looked peaceful as he slept and his mind and body recuperated. Since then, Shuri had roused him, and begun simple physical tasks, to help him regain motor functions, to lay down pathways that could replace some of the conditioned ones.

And now, here he was, fully motor-functional, moving around under his own power. Maybe he wasn’t up to combat, but he could carry firewood, cook himself food. Help the villagers tend livestock and harvest their crops.

Bucky set down the pile of wood and started to sort it into the existing pile inside. Steve set his down next to Bucky’s and then went to sit on the blankets on the ground that must serve him as a bed. It was quite comfortable, actually. He could feel the hard ground underneath, but he could also feel that the fabric of the blankets was deceptively soft and cushioned.

Bucky glanced over as he finished stacking the wood against the wall. He said, “Surprisingly soft, isn’t it? Traditional fibers, both from livestock and plants that grow here. I’m *pretty* sure there isn’t any vibranium in those, at least.”

Steve chuckled, and as Bucky looked at him, they made eye contact for the first time. Steve saw his friend smile. And in that moment, his whole world shifted. 

Bucky might still be a broken man, might still have a long road to walk. But that smile – that was the smile of the person he’d known since they were kids. Even with all the terrible decades of doing HYDRA’s bidding as the Winter Soldier, and whatever Shuri had had to do to try to undo all that... underneath, there was his Bucky. And that was the moment when he realized Ella was right. Steve loved Bucky so much that he was drawn to him in ways he’d never fully examined. And for the first time, he found himself interested in trying.

But, of course, who knew how Bucky felt. This must have been exactly how it had been for Ella and Artemis. Wondering if it was a good idea to try opening this particular door.

At any rate, Steve tried to push those thoughts to the side. Shuri had said she thought Bucky was quite well recovered by now. The conditioning was provably gone, and the physical training was going well. It would be up to Bucky, she’d said, as to whether he wanted combatant training. But he was whole enough, Steve had thought, that maybe it was time to share one of Ella’s letters with him.

He’d just picked it up from Sharon, a week ago. He usually managed to check in with Sharon, spend time with her, and pick up letters from Ella and a few others, every few months.

And Sharon had been fine with the sort of shared-relationship model Ella and Ethan had proposed. Sharon had chuckled and said, “Of course I would want you all to myself. But I also know that’s not realistic. So, I don’t mind sharing you. With your team, with your principles, which are the main reason you’re on the run right now..." she'd poked him in the ribs, "...And definitely with Ella and Ethan. You can use all the love you can get. And I think we're probably all just happy to get as much time with you as you can spare.” She’d requested the same rules Ella had: that Steve told her what other relationships he was in, and what kinds of intimacy he’d had with whom, so she could plan accordingly. And that had been easy enough. Until a moment ago, he hadn’t had anyone else in mind but Ella.

Bucky came over and sat next to him.

“How you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky looked at him. He said, “Better.”

Steve chuckled. It was such a simple statement, but it said a lot.

Then Bucky added, “I’m sorry I didn’t come out to greet you right away. Shuri told me you might be visiting.”

Steve said, “It’s okay.”

Bucky shook his head. He said, “She told me that she couldn’t remove all the memories of the times when I was acting under conditioning. She removed some of it, weakened it. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to, actually, because I... I don’t want to forget all the people I killed. That doesn’t seem right. But Shuri said it was an important part of weakening the conditioning, to dissociate memories, physical acts. And then she told me that when I saw you, that might bring up what was left of those memories.”

Steve looked over at him. “Did it?”

Bucky looked down at his feet. He reached with his intact arm over to his other shoulder where the prosthetic arm had been, and slowly rubbed the now-healed stump. He said, “Yeah, a little. A few of the recent ones, when I had to fight you. One really dim one of...” Bucky paused, then half-smiled and looked Steve in the eye with a kind of teasing, disbelieving look. “Did you really haul my helicopter down to the landing pad when I was trying to escape in Berlin?”

Steve felt extremely embarrassed. The serum, and his training, both made it so he was capable of extreme acts of strength and endurance. But in that moment on the helipad, it was sheer adrenaline -- and desperation -- that had made the difference. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and said, “Uh, yeah.”

Bucky started to laugh, and then eventually Steve did, too. Bucky slapped Steve on the back, and then rested his hand on Steve’s forearm. He said, “Boy, you sure came a long way from getting beat up in an alley in Brooklyn.”

Steve smiled at his friend, still laughing. “I think you mean *all* the alleys in Brooklyn.” Steve put his other hand over Bucky’s and said, “And... I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you saving my ass all those times.” Then he sobered a little. “Even if it does mean that everything that happened to you was because of me.”

Bucky looked Steve in the eye and said, “No problem. I told you, back in ‘45, that I was following that little guy who wouldn’t back down from a fight. And I’ll follow you anywhere you ask me to follow you, even now. Even broken.”

He was smiling, but Steve could tell Bucky was deadly serious. Steve wasn’t sure what to say, but the intensity in Bucky’s eyes mirrored the intensity Steve was feeling toward his friend. How much Steve loved him, and how much Bucky must love him back, to say what he’d just said. Then Bucky laughed again.

He said, “You know what they’ve started calling me around the village? ‘The White Wolf.’ ”

Steve blew out a breath in disbelief. “Well, that’s... lyrical.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, but I like it. These are good people, Steve, I’ve got to tell you. It does help to restore my faith in people. And in myself, a little.” Steve nodded and they sat for a minute in companionable silence. Then Steve remembered that he wanted to share Ella’s letter with Bucky.

Steve said, “Speaking of having faith in people. I wanted to share something with you.”

Bucky said, “Oh?”

Steve pulled Ella’s letter out of his vest pocket. The envelope was addressed to Sharon, as usual. Bucky saw it and elbowed Steve. “Sharon, I see.” Steve looked at him and smirked. “Buck, you don’t know the half of it. This... could take a little while to explain.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and Steve opened the envelope and pulled out Ella’s letter.

Steve sighed for a moment, running a few fingers down the densely packed, so-familiar handwriting. Then he drew out the photo Ella had sent, and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky took the photo from him, and Steve watched him try to make sense of who these people were: a woman, half-bent over and holding a little girl’s hands as she looked to be about to try to run off on her own, with potentially disastrous consequences. Steve pointed at the photo and said, “That’s Ella. And that’s... Sarah.” He touched the image of the little girl. She was growing so fast, he thought. She had to be a few inches taller than she’d been in the last letter, and definitely since he'd seen her last, on her first birthday.

Bucky stared for a moment, and then looked at Steve in disbelief. “Steve... she’s got... she’s got...”

“My eyes, yeah,” Steve said, letting a little parental pride show. Sarah looked a little less like him than she had when he’d first gone to see Ella and company, but it was still something he knew Bucky would notice.

Bucky said in wonder, “Son of a bitch. You have got a *lot* of explaining to do.”

Steve laughed, and spent the rest of the afternoon explaining what had happened with Ella, Ethan, and the babies, and what his arrangement was with them and with Sharon. He read a little of the letter aloud, about how Sarah had already started trying to run, way ahead of her brother. There had been quite a few spills, but Sarah was a very determined child, never cried when she fell, always picked herself back up. Bucky said that sounded familiar, and the look in his eyes as he said it made Steve feel unreasonably happy.

Bucky seemed to take it all in stride, mostly. And when Steve was finally finished, he let out a long, low whistle.

“Man. I think you clearly got the better end of this deal.” Bucky teased. Steve sighed, pursing his lips. “Buck, you know I would have done anything to save you, if I had known.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Bucky, seriously. I... I don’t know if you know how much you mean to me,” Steve said. For some reason he didn’t understand, he was suddenly feeling desperate to impress upon Bucky how he felt about him.

Bucky got quiet. “Yeah, I know,” he said. He looked away. “You lost everything, because of me. You lost Tony, and your team, your friends. You can’t spend much time with Sharon *or* Ella, you can’t go see your daughter...” He sighed, put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, and finished with something he’d said more than a year ago. “I hope I’m worth all that.”

Steve reached out and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in return, just to the side of his neck. And he said, putting every bit of his feeling into it, “You are.”

Bucky looked at him, and Steve was only a little surprised when he shifted his hand up to Steve’s neck. A sweet gesture, and in this context, a little intimate – it felt more intimate than anything he’d ever done before. But then again, maybe it was because Steve was looking at Bucky differently now than he had in the past. “You’re an idiot, you know,” Bucky said. 

Steve laughed, and said, “Yeah, I know. Apparently you *didn’t* take all the stupid with you.” Bucky laughed.

Then Steve added, “And... you know I could never have signed the Accords. Even though I think oversight is reasonable and important, I also think there isn’t anyone on the planet I trust with it. So... this would have happened anyway. And... this way, I got you back.” 

And then Steve took a chance. He did something he usually only did to Ella: stroked a stray lock of Bucky’s long hair back behind his ear. Bucky drew in a breath as he did it; but to Steve it felt surprisingly natural. Not the same as it was with Ella, but equally rewarding, to show tenderness towards someone he loved.

Bucky said softly, “Would you think less of me if I told you I found you really attractive right now?” Steve was a little surprised that Bucky would say it that bluntly, but maybe his life experience had taught him not to delay things that were important. Maybe that was true for both of them, at this point.

So Steve shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t think less of you. You would be the first, though, *not* to tell me the beard isn’t to your liking,” he said, and smiled at Bucky.

Bucky laughed. He said, “I just thought, you know, I was always the player, at least back in the day. I didn’t know if you’d lose respect for me if I turned out to be gay, in the end.”

Steve smiled at Bucky and then said seriously, “I have it on good authority that it’s fine to be gay, and it’s fine to be bisexual, and it’s fine to become attracted to the people you deeply love.” 

“Is that right,” Bucky said. “Yes,” Steve assured him.

“Well, then, what are we waiting for?” Bucky said, a little weakly. Steve pulled him close, and leaned in to kiss him. 

~*~

The next day, Steve had to head back to the team. This visit with Bucky was unfortunately even shorter than his usual visits with Sharon. But Bucky, if he decided he wanted it, could come join them, while Sharon couldn’t. And Steve had left the team in a slightly more precarious position than usual.

So he had to make his goodbyes brief. First Bucky, of course. Steve had spent the night in the village with him. The next morning, he’d woken curled up around Bucky, and was surprised at how that made him feel both strong and vulnerable at the same time. The list of people he realized how much he cared desperately for was growing, and he wasn’t in a position to protect any of them as well as he would have liked. Fortunately, he had help. He had complete faith in Sharon to take care of herself, and in T’Challa and his family (and armies) to keep Bucky safe. Ella and Sarah’s safety was in their obscurity, hopefully.

But as Steve woke, got up, and got dressed to leave, and Bucky roused, stretching, Steve looked over at him and felt surprisingly afraid. Maybe he was more afraid for himself, caring so much for everyone, and risking losing them, like he’d lost Peggy. Of course, he had always cared this much about them, but maybe the difference was really being in touch with it, and communicating it to them so clearly. And so physically. But Steve steeled himself against the fear of loss and said, “Buck, I’ve got to go. I’ll try to come back soon.”

Bucky stood up, shirtless, next to him. He said, softly, “Thanks for helping make some new memories.” Steve laughed. “My pleasure.” He pulled Bucky close and kissed him, again, and then wrapped his arms around him.

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve, and Steve said, “I’m just so grateful I got a second chance, with you.”

“Me, too,” Bucky said.

Steve said, “You know... if I had a second chance with Peggy? If I could have not gone in the ice? I’m not sure I could turn that down, anymore. Now that I know how it feels, to get a second chance.”

Bucky said, quietly in his ear, “Hey, if you ever have that chance, I wouldn’t begrudge you going for it. I’d bet all of us who love you would want you to go for it.”

Steve laughed. It felt so good to have this many people love him; to have this many people support him. Maybe that was the trade-off for suffering the fear of what might happen to them. 

Because Bucky was right; he knew both Sharon and Ella wouldn’t hold it against him, and would probably tell him to go for it, if somehow he ever had that chance with Peggy again. That was just a fantasy, of course. But it was nice to think about.

And so, Steve left to say his goodbyes to the Wakandan royal family and go rejoin his team.


	42. Chapter 42

_**WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME BEGIN HERE** _

That fear of loss... it was as if it had been a premonition. Because then he lost them all in a snap of a finger. He still had Nat, and that was something. And Ethan. But Sam, Bucky, Sharon, Ella, and Sarah had all been... erased.

In the few days following the Cull, what was left of the team had made their way back to the Avengers facility in New York. That was when Steve had found out just how much he’d lost in that critical second. So he threw himself into finding Thanos. Was utterly focused on what they could do to get them all back. They found Nick’s pager, they set it up to keep doing whatever it was doing that he’d started before he’d been killed. They gathered the group. They tried to find a way to communicate with Tony, Dr. Strange, and Peter. But though some among them might have once had the technology to communicate across the vast expanses of space, everyone had been brought low. 

So meeting Carol Danvers was a welcome shock. Steve liked her immediately – she had the same sense of dedication and duty as he did; but with a much better sense of humor. Reminded him just a little bit of Bucky, in that way. And, better still: she had a great deal more power than the rest of them, having absorbed a large amount of energy from the Tessaract, which she had miraculously survived, and had then gone on to be trained as an elite Kree warrior. Steve knew enough about the Tessaract to guess about what Carol could do. So when she said she was going to kill Thanos, he knew she could do it. But Nat’s request that they all go together was reasonable, and Steve was pleased that Carol responded well to it. For someone with that much raw power and ability, it was nice that Carol played well with others.

Steve had felt bad, leaving Tony behind. But Tony was in no condition to travel, let alone to take on whatever they would face. It had hurt, what he’d said. But, like everything else that stood between them, Steve really couldn’t blame him, especially given his physical and mental condition at the time. He still held out hope that someday he and Tony could reconcile.

But. Then they had found out that Thanos had destroyed the stones. That he’d made the Cull irreversible.

And Steve realized he’d been holding it all in. Waiting. Because he hadn’t known if it would be permanent, this loss. And if it hadn’t been, well, there was no sense in suffering. But it *was* permanent.

So then he went to see Ethan. Steve had only spoken with him briefly on the phone, just after they’d gotten back to the Avengers compound, and found out from him that Ella and Sarah were gone. Steve had told him then that they were going to do everything they could to get everyone back.

And now Steve knew they couldn’t. And he owed it to Ethan to tell him in person.

Standing at the door of the El Cerrito house, Steve couldn’t bring himself to knock, for the longest time. Opening this door would make real all these losses. He’d have to face, for the second time in his life, having lost almost everything that mattered to him. 

But that was his life, he thought resignedly. It was about, and had always been about, not backing down in the face of the difficult things life had been throwing at him since he was a kid. That was why he kept coming back to the phrase “I can do this all day.” Something he’d told himself, and the bullies who tried to beat the will out of him, when he was young. Something he’d had to say to himself again, and again, to get himself to commit to what had to be done. And the serum made it possible for him to face even worse things than he could have before his transformation. Though it didn’t make any of it less painful. And he found, over his lifetime, that it was getting harder and harder to face up to loss. 

But then, faithfully, there it was: the feeling re-emerged that he couldn’t just wait, just hide from the pain. He might as well get on with the business of living, no matter how much it hurt.

So he knocked. Ethan opened the door. Steve was deeply grateful for Ethan’s perceptive nature, because he didn’t even need to ask Steve what had happened: he just read the look on Steve’s face, and silently looked down, tears starting.

They just stood there, both of them, for a moment or two. Then Steve heard the sounds of Thomas, presumably waking from a nap, and Ethan looked back up at him, gestured for him to come in, and went to go tend to his son.

Steve shut the front door behind him, and came to sit at the dining table. He tried not to think of the last time he’d sat here, for the kids’ first birthdays. He was dangerously close to tears when Ethan came down the stairs holding Thomas. 

Thomas was getting pretty big already, though he had always been a little smaller than his sister, who had after all actually been a month older than he was. The little boy was rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Ethan said to his son, “Want to say hi to Uncle Steve?” Thomas yawned and brightened, seeing Steve. “Seeve!” he exclaimed.

Steve found himself smiling in spite of everything that had happened. He held his hands out to take Thomas from Ethan, and hugged the little one close. With half of all life wiped out, what life had remained was doubly precious. And as Thomas eventually started to squirm and Steve let him go, he caught something in the little boy’s mischievous grin that reminded him of Ella. That sent an arrow of pain through him. But it also showed him that there were ways in which she wasn’t totally gone.

But then he looked back at the shelf behind the dining table, where Ella and Ethan had put a variety of family pictures (all of which had to omit Steve, by necessity), and there was that same picture of Ella and Sarah, the one he had kept tucked away with his compass that had Peggy’s picture in it, and then he couldn’t stop the tears.

Thomas had run off to play, and Ethan came around the table and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked up at him, putting his hand over Ethan’s. He laughed sadly, and said to him, “I had been thinking that I should try to come for their second birthday. But I was already starting to worry that she’d start recognizing me, remembering me. So I had almost convinced myself I shouldn’t come, I should just send a letter. And now...”

Steve couldn’t go on. Ethan pulled up a chair, and the two of them just held each other and cried for a few minutes. Usually Steve found Ethan to be someone who could ground him when he was lost, just like Ella could. But today... neither of them could seem to find any purchase against the grief. It was like two drowning men just hanging onto each other because there was nothing else to do.

Eventually Steve said, “My God, Ethan, we failed... *I* failed. We couldn’t undo it.”

Ethan said, softly, into Steve’s neck, “I don’t doubt that you tried as hard as you could. Sometimes there are things even you and your team can’t fix.”

Steve drew in a breath, swallowed some of his tears, gave Ethan a squeeze, and let go of him. Ethan smiled at him, squeezed his shoulder back, and went to get tissues and, Steve saw, to make tea. Steve smiled to himself even through his pain. Tea did somehow help. And Ethan making tea when there was shit to deal with was reassuringly familiar.

Eventually he said to Ethan, “But I know I could have done more. If Tony and I had been on speaking terms... if we’d been working together... maybe we could have destroyed the Mind stone before Thanos could get it, and saved Vision. Maybe we could have defended the Time stone before Thanos’ people could have tried to get it. Thanos would still have been incredibly powerful, but... Nick would have called Carol, sooner. Maybe we could have beat him.” Steve didn’t bother with whether any of this should be restricted information, or with whether Ethan understood what he was talking about.

But then Ethan said, “Steve, we all second-guess ourselves. We can only make decisions as best we can in the moment. This won’t help you, now.”

Ethan’s words actually resonated, for a moment, and Steve chuckled hollowly. “You really do know how to cheer a fella up.”

Ethan laughed with actual humor. “That’s high praise, coming from you.”

Steve smiled. Then he said, “What do we do now? What will you do?”

Ethan finished fixing the tea and brought it over. He said, “Well, everything has gone to hell, obviously. But some of my manufacturing facilities are intact, and I think we’ll shift our production to serve local needs instead of international needs. There are places where the infrastructure is failing already, and that will only get worse. Though there’s less demand on the systems, there were already weaknesses in, for example, the electrical grid, and fewer people now to fix and maintain them.” 

Ethan sighed and sat down next to Steve, elbows on the table. “All the so-called ‘developed’ countries are about to look a lot more like those they thought to aid, before. The communities Ella...” he paused for a moment, and Steve thought both of them must have felt the same stab of grief, “and I were working with... in a way, they may be more resilient because they were already relying on their own solutions and ingenuity and not on some state infrastructure that couldn’t adapt to their needs. And now... we’ll have trouble, trying to rely on our infrastructure. So, I’ll do what I can to help shore it all up.”

Steve nodded. “What about you?” Ethan asked. Steve felt a wave of extreme weariness. He said, “I... I don’t know. I know Nat will be focused on trying to keep the worst of the collapse from happening, trying to fix things where she can. I can already see that in her. But me... I just don’t know. Right now, I can’t imagine what I can do that will really help.” 

That feeling, Steve knew, was fueled by his extreme guilt at having failed to prevent this disaster, and by his grief. Maybe, in time, he’d be helping Nat with recovery and damage control. But this was like the time when Peggy had had the stroke, and he knew he couldn’t focus. Only this was magnitudes worse. Sure, his reflexes would still be sharp, his senses acute, his strength would still be there, thanks to the serum. But his mind, his emotions, what Shuri would have told him was his spirit... that was in pieces. He knew he couldn’t do the work he used to do. At least, not as far as he could currently imagine. And a feeling of deep despair settled over him.

Ethan sighed and took a sip of his tea. He looked over sideways at Steve and said, “Steve, a bit of free advice. In the face of disaster, people need something they can do to feel of use. I think you need to find something you can do to help, even if it isn’t your old work.”

Steve looked at Ethan and for a moment, just couldn’t figure out what to say or think. He felt almost angry at him, though he knew Ethan was trying to help. But there was some kind of self-destructive piece of Steve, who knew he had survived, twice, when everything he’d loved had been at stake, when people he loved had died. Why did he always have to move on, to keep going? Maybe he could and should just rot. Why did Ethan have to prompt him, remind him that he could keep going?

But then Ethan looked him in the eye, and Steve felt a little of the self-destructive thought-cycle fade, and then that stubborn will to go on in the face of adversity re-asserted itself. There were people who were still here, who still needed his help. Both his friends and family, and also strangers. Survivors had to help each other with the surviving.

And that thought gave him an idea. He said, very tentatively, to Ethan, “You know... Sam used to lead a support group at the VA. For veterans, dealing with PTSD. Sometimes I’d go stand at the back and listen. He was really good at it.” And for a moment, Steve was again immobilized by the grief of losing his friend. Ethan put a hand on his arm.

Steve took a deep breath. “I’m kind of an expert at losing everything and having to move on. And I think Sam would have liked it if I helped people, the same way he did.”

Ethan smiled and said, “Steve, that’s a wonderful idea. I think all of your friends and loved ones would be proud of you for doing something like that.”

Steve nodded, and the two of them sat in silence. Then Thomas started to cry, and before Ethan could stand and go find him, the little boy came running into the room.

“Where mama?” he said, crying. Steve felt tears threaten again. Ethan hugged Thomas close, making shushing sounds, saying “She’s gone away. But she loved you very much. I’m here now, you don’t need to be afraid.” 

Steve managed to keep it together, but then Thomas said, “Where see-see?” which was what he had called Sarah, and then Steve had to excuse himself, heading to the bathroom to just let the sobs come. Thomas didn’t need to see all the adults around him falling apart at the same time.

After a while, Steve felt he had it under control. He emerged from the bathroom and found Ethan cooking dinner. Steve came to the kitchen and offered to help chop vegetables. He still wasn’t good at cooking, but thanks to Ella, he knew he could at least do simple tasks to assist a better cook. She’d once laughingly called him her sous-chef; of course, that memory was bittersweet now.

Ethan accepted the help gratefully. Steve asked, “Do you want me to stay here? With Naija gone, too... do you need help with Thomas?”

Ethan looked at Steve, and then back to the pan of noodles he was cooking. He said, “No, I think you ought to stay near Natasha. From what I’ve heard of her, she’ll work herself into the ground. And people everywhere would benefit from your support group idea, so I think you’ll do the most good back in New York.” Steve nodded. He felt a little sad, in a way. This was what he had left of his family, and it felt good to be here. But Ethan was right that Nat would drive herself crazy trying to fix everything – and she was the rest of what was left of his family. But maybe it didn’t need to be either-or.

So Steve said, “Maybe I can spend some time there and some time here.” Ethan looked back up at him again, eyes bright with tears but smiling. “That would be wonderful,” he said. Steve gripped Ethan’s shoulder with his free hand and then went back to chopping.

Eventually Steve finished the vegetables, and Ethan added them to the pan, stir-frying them with the noodles. As he cracked a little egg in, and it sizzled away appealingly, Ethan said, “You know, if you stick around that much, Thomas will start to learn who you are.”

Steve sighed, putting his hands on the counter. “And who am I?” He asked, semi-rhetorically. They were both silent for a while, Steve musing to himself about the situation.

Then, turning to Ethan, he answered his own question: “I’m Uncle Steve. I used to be in the Army. Half of the people who would have been my enemies are dead, and any regulations that once applied to me are basically pointless now. Maybe I’m a little stronger or faster than most people, but... Thomas doesn’t need to know that.”

Ethan nodded, and said, “Noted. It’s always a pleasure to have you with us, Uncle Steve.”

Steve laughed, for the first time in a month, without any sadness at all. This was going to be a very long road to travel. But at least he wasn’t entirely alone.


	43. Chapter 43

For Ella, it was just a blink of an eye. She closed her eyes, felt strange (an unnerving feeling of disintegration?), and then opened them again and felt even stranger. Totally disoriented. She was out on the back deck of their house. She wasn’t standing where she’d been standing, a moment ago... hadn’t she been inside? She’d been looking at the outside, though. And she was holding Sarah; but hadn’t Sarah been in the other room?

Sarah started to squirm. “Mama, down!” she shouted imperiously. Ella absentmindedly put her daughter down, and Sarah immediately went tottering off unevenly towards the lawn. Which, Ella realized, looked like it hadn’t been mowed recently. That was strange, too... she’d just mowed it last week – she remembered because she’d had that argument with Ethan about getting rid of the lawn to put in something more drought-tolerant, and Ethan had insisted that they needed at least a little space the kids could play in, and somehow she’d ended up being the one to have to care for it anyway.

And it wasn’t just the lawn... the trees in the yard seemed more crowded, and half of them were much taller than she remembered, especially the old live oak in the corner. As Ella was considering this, she heard the sliding door behind her open. She turned to see that it was Ethan.

And Ella saw with a sudden shock that he had gray in his hair that she was certain hadn’t been there a moment ago. The expression on his face, too, was totally bizarre. He had a look of sadness, and hope, and relief, and then joy that made no sense at all. “Ethan, what happened to your hair?” Ella asked.

Ethan didn’t answer, and instead came to her, touched her face, stroked her hair, wordlessly, as if it was some rare experience he had been denied for a long time. He said, very softly, almost so quietly that Ella didn’t hear him, “He did it. *They* did it,” he corrected himself. “Somehow, they brought you all back.”

“What? Who? Ethan, what are you talking about?” Ella said, increasingly irritated and starting to become afraid.

Ethan just threw his arms around her and held her extremely tightly. He murmured to her, “It’s going to take a while to explain what’s happened. I don’t know all the details. But you’ve just missed the last five years.”

Ella couldn’t process what Ethan had said. How was it possible to miss five years in a blink of an eye? She turned her head and looked back at the trees... it was possible that they were five years taller? Sarah was just the same as she remembered, as she came tottering back up to the two of them. 

“Dada, up!” she said to Ethan. He looked down and saw her, reached down to pick her up, and just began to cry, holding her and rocking her. Sarah made complaining sounds for a minute, but then became uncharacteristically quiet.

Five years? Ella’s mind was still racing, trying to understand how this could be true, though part of her was already realizing that it would explain her disorientation, and the state of the yard, and Ethan’s white hair.

And then a little boy came to the sliding door and said, “Dad, I’m going to...” and stopped as he saw her.

“Mom?” he asked, sounding afraid. “Thomas?” Ella asked, equally fearful, but as she looked at him, and mentally aged her little boy five years, this is just what she thought Thomas might have looked like – just like the pictures of Ethan she’d seen from when he was around this age.

Ella knelt down, and Thomas approached her cautiously. “Mom, I thought you were gone...” he said, and then when she shook her head, still not sure what all this meant, he threw his arms around her.

“Mom, I missed you so much...” Ella stroked his head, and hugged him back, and looked up at Ethan. 

Ethan chuckled, tears still in his eyes, and said, “Yes, there is quite a bit to catch you up on.”

So they went inside, and the rest of the afternoon consisted of Ethan telling Ella what had happened. That a being named Thanos had destroyed half of all life in the universe. That Ella’s parents, Naija and Andy had been killed, though Artemis and her daughter had survived. Steve and Natasha had survived, but Bucky and Sharon and Sam hadn’t. Steve had come to visit frequently in the ensuing five years. Ethan had worked tirelessly to help restore infrastructure in the Bay Area, and despite many people’s encouragement to move on, to find a new partner, he’d never felt inclined to do so. Steve hadn’t, either.

“Steve runs support groups,” Ethan told her. “For us to try to find a way to function, after we lost you all.” Ella laughed, a little tearfully. “He’d be good at that,” she said. She imagined what it must have been like for all of them, and especially for Steve. Though she herself was still reeling from the loss of five years of her family’s life and her world’s goings-on, she appreciated that she also hadn’t had to feel the loss they had felt for that five years.

It was a lot to take in. But everything Ethan was saying, right down to the way he was talking to her about it... it all fit together with this impossible fact that she had ceased to exist for five years, and half of the world had moved on without her. She’d missed five years of her son’s life. Five years of her partners’ lives.

Ethan started to get her caught up on how the world had changed, how political processes had radically shifted, how some parts of the world had remained abandoned, but others had consolidated. By the time Ella went to bed that night, Ethan wrapped around her as if he still couldn’t believe she was back, she was utterly exhausted by the enormity of what had happened.

It was two days later that Steve came to see them. He knocked, but then let himself in with the ease of someone who feels at home.

Thomas had been sitting on the living room couch playing a video game. Ella heard him shout, “Uncle Steve!” Then she heard him drop the controller on the floor and go running to the front hall. As Ella came from the kitchen to watch, she saw Thomas jump into Steve’s arms; Steve caught him and swung him around, narrowly missing some of the knickknacks on shelves in the entryway. Thomas giggled delightedly, and Steve had a wide smile on his face as he put Thomas down. Straightening back up, he saw Ella standing in the doorway.

Ethan’s reaction to seeing her had been hard enough, and he had been surprised by her reappearance, hadn’t been expecting it. Steve, on the other hand, was expecting her (Ethan had said he’d told Steve right away that Ella and Sarah had returned) but it was clear from his face that he still hadn’t anticipated how much it would affect him to see her again.

Steve stepped across the room and wrapped his arms around Ella. He was openly crying. Not the little tremors Ella had once seen when he was trying to let go of Peggy, in the dark on the hillside above the Bay, that Memorial day – honoring those who had fallen. Now that he was celebrating those who had been restored, the emotion just didn’t seem to be something he could contain. Or maybe Steve had changed, over the intervening time... running support groups, encouraging people to share their feelings, to process their grief. Maybe he felt like he could just let the emotion out.

Ella could only imagine what he’d gone through, these five years. And she suddenly realized that her experience, missing all that time in a blink of an eye, when in the meantime, her loved ones had had to suffer, to move on... this was exactly what Steve had experienced when he’d gone in the ice, only for him it had been nearly 70 years.

Then Sarah toddled into the room. She, just like Thomas when he was two, had already started to learn that Steve was a known quantity. The extra five years didn’t seem to bother her; she grabbed onto her mother’s skirt for balance, just for a moment, and then, holding her arms out, said to Steve, “Up!” 

Steve laughed and picked his daughter up. The tears seemed to have stopped, and he was smiling at her. She touched his face where it was wet, with her little palms, and said, “Sad.”

Steve stroked her hair and gave her a squeeze. He said to her, “I *was* sad. Now I’m pretty happy. I’m happy to see you.”

Sarah made a sad face, and then a happy face, and then tried to grab Steve’s nose. He let her, and there was a series of fairly undignified sounds and facial expressions exchanged between the two of them, until Sarah started to get impatient and Steve put her down. He smiled at Ella, and the whole exchange made Ella feel remarkably good, after all the weirdness of the last few days. She also noticed that Steve was healing (with his usual resilience) from what must have been a pretty brutal fight. She walked over and put a hand to his face, gently stroking away the tears. He smiled down at her and hugged her again.

She still wasn’t sure what to do about Sarah recognizing him, and especially now that Thomas had come to know him as “Uncle Steve,” but that just didn’t matter right now.

Steve stayed for two nights, but the second night he told Ella he had to go. 

“It’s... kind of hard to explain. But the way we were able to restore everyone… we had to take the Infinity stones out of the times and places we could find them. It leaves some pretty bad loose ends out there. I need to go fix them.” He’d started out not giving details on what had happened, but eventually Ella had said she wouldn’t tell anyone, and Steve had given up on secrecy and told her all about the ‘time heist,’ as Scott Lang had put it. Ella thought he seemed relieved to be able to tell her about it.

She snuggled up close to him in the guest bed. They’d been very discreet around the kids, but she’d slept in his room last night, and planned to do so again tonight.

“Why are you the one who has to go put the stones back?” Ella asked. Steve sighed, and said, “Well... I’m the only one who really has the right experience to go all the specific places and times we need to go to put things right. Sam and Bucky offered to come, but they weren’t there during the heist, or in the first place, either. Sam was retired, and Bucky was on ice, in 2012.”

“Ah,” she said, stroking his arm. “So it’s not because you always feel like you need to be the one to fix things.” Steve sighed. “Well, maybe there’s a little of that, too.”

Then he looked at her with a surprisingly proud gleam in his eye. “And besides, no one else can lift Thor’s hammer.”

Ella sat up in the bed. “Wait, what?” Steve grinned at her unabashedly.

“You could lift Thor’s hammer? The thing that only he was supposed to be worthy to budge?” Steve just kept grinning, and said, “Yep.”

Ella punched him in the arm in admiration, and he winced. “Sorry,” she said; Steve shook his head, pride undiminished, and wrapped his arms around her. He said, “I can take the hammer back, and the Reality stone. I’ve never been to Asgard, but then, other than Thor and Rocket, no one else has either. So it might as well be me.” Steve had already explained that Thor hadn’t weathered the intervening five years very well, so Ella nodded.

“And this mission is going to involve extreme stealth, which was never Thor’s strong suit,” Steve said. Ella laughed and agreed.

“Well, then shouldn’t you bring Nat?” she asked, and then was immediately sorry. The look of grief on Steve’s face was so raw it was painful to look at.

Ella pulled him close and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around him and scooching up in the bed until his head rested on her chest, just below her chin. “I’m... I’m sorry, I thought Nat had survived like you did,” she said softly.

Steve shook his head and told her, “She did. She held the world together for five years, better than I ever could have. But then when we had to get the Soul stone... she gave her life in exchange for it. When Bruce used the stones to bring you all back, he couldn’t bring her back too. Her sacrifice couldn’t be undone. Clint told me the Stonekeeper said it was ‘a soul for a soul.’ ” Ella nodded, and stroked his hair. 

They lay there for a little while longer. Eventually Ella said, “What was it like, to be able to go back in time and see yourself as you were back then, in 2012?”

Steve snorted. “It was pretty strange. I mean, I remember feeling that way, acting that way... but having to face myself from back then, literally... well, let’s just say I’ve grown a lot, since I came out of the ice, and it shows.” Ella nodded and said, “I certainly think you have.”

Then Steve got quiet. “What’s wrong? Penny for your thoughts...” Ella said, rubbing his arm with her thumb.

Steve laughed softly. Then he took a deep breath, and said, “When Tony and I went back to the seventies, to try to get the Time stone... I saw Peggy.” 

“Oh,” Ella said. “Was it hard?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I didn’t expect to see her, even though I knew she’d be there. Tony and I were so focused on getting what we needed to try to bring everyone back. And Peggy had a long, and really wonderful life. It wasn’t like it was with you, or Sharon, or Sarah, who were just... snuffed out. But... when I saw her... it was so hard, not to want to talk to her.”

Ella stroked Steve’s neck. She said, “What would have happened, if you had?”

Steve sighed, and said, “I don’t know. I wasn’t the one doing the time travel calculations. But I do know that we’d just screwed up trying to get the Tessaract in 2012, and then we found out after Bruce talked to the Ancient One that the more interacting we did in whatever time we were in... the more likely we’d make it hard to undo what we did, later.” He was silent for a long time. Ella wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t press it.

Eventually, she said, “Well, I understand how hard that must have been.” She paused for a while. “When you go to put the stone back, will you see her again?”

Steve said, “I don’t know. I hid out in her office when I was trying to get the time-travel particles, and this time I’ll be going to a different part of the compound. I think the data from the quantum device will allow me to go to exactly the right place and time to put the stone back. So unless she goes there right after Tony got the Tessaract, I probably won’t see her.”

Steve was silent for a while, then sighed. “Probably better that way, anyway. I don’t know if I could resist talking to her, this time.”

Ella was quiet. Then she said, “You know, I told you once that you should do what feels right to you, when you’re out there dealing with stuff. I know, at the time, I meant if you met someone you wanted to be involved with, when you were out running around Europe, keeping outside the law.” Steve nodded, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

Ella went on, “I don’t totally understand the time travel aspects of what you’re doing, but I did hear you say that anything you do in the past won’t risk the victories you’ve earned in the present, in this timeline.” He nodded again. 

“So, I guess... I’m just saying that I still feel like you should do what feels right to you, when you’re out there, dealing with stuff. I support your choices.” Ella wasn’t even sure what she was giving permission for, but all she knew was, she could hear the yearning – and the resignation – in Steve’s voice when he talked about having seen Peggy.

Steve searched Ella’s face for a moment, then leaned in to kiss her deeply. When he finished, and she opened her eyes, she saw him looking at her. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but in the end all he said was, “Thanks.” And then they went to sleep.


	44. Chapter 44

### Part Twelve

_May 28th, 2023_

_Dear Nat,_

_Ella once told me to write one of these to help myself get over losing Peggy. I never thought I’d have to do it to help myself get over losing you._

_I hope somewhere you know that it worked. That we got the other half of the universe back. It’s going to be messy to re-integrate everyone. But not as messy and painful as it was to adjust to losing them all._

_Clint’s family is back. I wish you could have seen the look on his face when he saw that it was Laura calling him... I can’t imagine what it was like when he went home and saw his kids._

_Actually, yes, I can imagine it. Because that’s what it was like, to see Sarah again. I know I never told you, officially, about her. But you knew. I know you did. How could you not? It was your job, right, to get in my personal business? And if there was anything about you we could all count on, it was that you were always so good at your job..._

_Except... I counted on you for so much more than that. You were there for me in all the terrible times. Just like Bucky was, when I was a kid. Maybe you didn’t need to fight off bullies in alleyways. But you helped me with my grief and pain when there just wasn’t anything else I could do. Somehow you helped me laugh when that didn’t seem possible in the face of everything. You kept me afloat when I wanted so badly to sink._

_God, I just can’t believe you’re gone... in a way, this is harder even than having lost Peggy, or having thought I lost Bucky... or having lost them all in the Cull. Because with Peggy, I saw it coming. With Bucky, I had a long time to come to terms with it. It was impossible for him to come back, I thought. And... the Cull... I guess there was always a little corner of me that still hoped we’d find a way out of it._

_But this happened so suddenly. There wasn’t anything I could do about it… I can’t undo it... I couldn’t be there with you, for you... I know Clint did whatever he could for you, probably better than I could. But you just need to know that this loss... this one last loss... it’s been the hardest to bear._

_And now I have to go put the stones back. Bruce told us the Ancient One made it really clear that we’ll cause lots of problems if we don’t. You’d probably get mad at me for insisting on going alone. But I’ll be more agile that way. I’m the best one to go do it. Even if I’m not sure how I’m going to get through it all. Especially seeing Peggy. But. I just got to move forward, right?_

_With love from some fossil gone missing from the Smithsonian,_

_Steve_

~*~

And it *was* hard on Steve, going back to 1970, knowing Peggy was there, trying to focus on what he needed to do. It was good, in a way, to have had to go there first, to get it over with. Bruce had said that Steve needed to start with the oldest branch, to ensure that when the quantum device chose a path, it wouldn’t accidentally send him to one of the alternative branches. So Steve had traveled back to a few moments before the branch point, to make sure he was in the right place, before clipping it. Then he’d jump forward in time, one stone after another, clipping branches as he went. The quantum devices tracked exactly where and when their wearers had gone, so it was easy for him to choose appropriate places to go in order to return each of the stones.

So Steve appeared in the storage facility at SHIELD in 1970, had a few moments to hide himself, and then, just as he’d expected, heard Tony come and get the stone. Then Steve heard Howard Stark approaching. “Arnim?” Howard called. “Arnim, are you in there?”

With a shock, Steve realized he must mean Zola. Of course, Zola was here. Already twisting SHIELD from the inside, even while Peggy was right there trying to run it, trying for a more ethical path, in an increasingly morally ambiguous world. One thing Steve had learned, as he’d studied the history he’d missed, was that though there had been a clear moral choice in World War II against the Nazis, it wasn’t just the 21st century’s ethical landscape that had so tripped him up. All those gray areas had been developing for decades, and Peggy was right in the middle of them with SHIELD here in the ‘70s.

Thinking about that, and thinking about the fact that Zola was here, and feeling the temptation that he had the power to do something about it, Steve failed to pay attention to the exchange between Tony and his father, and only after they’d walked off did Steve remember that he needed to get the stone back in place as soon as possible.

Steve carefully peeked up above the desk he was hiding behind, confirmed that the room was empty, and stepped around to the storage unit that had, until a moment ago, contained the Tessaract. He carefully set down Mjolnir, and the small case that contained the Stones, and then reached into his hip pocket for the other case: the one that had the Scepter, the Cube, the Syringe, and the Orb in it.

Once the team had realized that all the stones had to be put back exactly as they’d been taken, they’d carefully extracted the stones from their housings (the four that had had housings: the Time and Soul stones had been given to them naked, without any container). Rocket had had no problem with the Orb or the Syringe, but it had taken him some doing to carefully open the glass container that had held the Space stone in a way that wouldn’t shatter it. After some testing, he’d eventually gotten it right, and he used the same technique for the Mind stone embedded in its glass shell in the Scepter.

Then the team had realized that these items were too bulky for one person to carry, and Scott had suggested shrinking them with a Pym particle. Bruce had immediately rejected the idea of doing this to the stones themselves, (something about gamma radiation and Pym’s tech and quantum travel) and so the team had decided on shrinking just the housings in their own case. This, of course, meant that Steve was going to need to reassemble them before he put them back. So Rocket explained to him in great detail how to do it, for the Scepter, Syringe, and Cube. The Orb was simple enough.

Steve first opened the SHIELD storage unit, revealing the hole where the Tessaract should be. Then, clearing a suitable area on the floor below it, he unshrunk the case that held the Cube and the other containers. Steve carefully removed the glass Cube from the case, opened the other case with the stones, and used the pair of forceps Rocket had thoughtfully included for him to place the Space stone in the Cube. That done, he closed the Cube and suddenly he was holding the Tessaract again. He felt a flash of strangeness, remembering the first time he’d seen it on the Valkyrie, all those years ago. But he shook that off.

Steve stood, turned, and as he started to place the Tessaract back in the storage unit, experienced a disorienting sensation: it was as if every time he blinked, the stone was either already there in the case, or empty. The experience intensified until he got the Tessaract he was holding in place, and then it abruptly ceased.

He shook his head, trying to decide if it was the Tessaract playing tricks on him. After all, he’d been holding the Cube with only gloves on. Doing that had destroyed the Red Skull, all those years ago, and he’d heard Bruce and others say that the stones gave off gamma radiation. Of course... Steve had been exposed to vita-rays in order to activate the super-serum, so who knew how his body responded to gamma radiation, which he’d gathered was somehow related.

At any rate, Steve sat for a moment after returning the stone, trying to get his bearings, trying to shake off a feeling that was almost like vertigo. Eventually it faded, and he re-shrunk the case and got ready to go to the next destination: Bleeker Street, New York, in 2012. To return the Time stone to the Ancient One.

And suddenly Steve heard voices outside in the hall. He quickly stepped around the row of storage units and took cover under the nearby desk again. His heart sank as the door opened and he recognized the voice: it was Peggy.

It was just like seeing her in the next office over had been: wrenching, but he still felt joy rush through him, just to hear or see her, as he remembered her, or closer to it, anyway, than it had been when he’d spent time with her at the end of her life. It brought back all that he had hoped for, all that he had lost; never mind that he’d managed to work out a pretty good life, anyway... hearing her voice, all he could think of was the life he could have had with her.

Steve didn’t even pay attention to the words she was saying; probably something she was following up on as Director. She sounded a little irritated, but also so confident. Steve drunk in the sounds of her speech, and some part of him called insistently that he needed to reveal himself, see her one more time... some disobedient part that said, “You could tell her about Zola.”

But he remembered his duty. He remembered that he still had five more stones to put back. So with a painful wrench, he tore his attention away from her, entered the appropriate space-time coordinates into his quantum device, and disappeared.


	45. Chapter 45

Steve reappeared on the roof of 177A Bleeker Street. A quick glance around showed him that Bruce hadn’t arrived yet. The Ancient One was already there on the roof, though. She was in the midst of destroying rogue Chitauri as they tried to spread out throughout the city. After dispatching one, she turned and smiled at Steve, nodding for him to step behind the stairwell, out of sight. Steve wondered at the fact that she seemed unsurprised. But he did as she indicated. 

He heard her smash another Chitauri, and then after a few moments, heard Bruce/Hulk jump down from the chimneys above them. Steve chuckled softly to himself, thinking about how very careful Bruce was, now that he was the combination of both parts of himself. If Steve had to bet, there probably wasn’t a single brick out of place where he’d climbed up on the wall of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Bruce tried to take the stone from the Ancient One. The Ancient One explained what would happen if he did. At some point, Bruce revealed that Doctor Strange had willingly given the Time stone to Thanos, knowing that it was the only way to win, eventually. Steve heard the Ancient One defer to Strange’s future judgment and give the stone to Bruce.

And then he heard her say, “You can come out, now, Captain Rogers.”

So he walked back around the stairwell to see her standing serenely, watching him as he approached. She smiled slightly, and said, “I think you have something for me?”

Steve nodded, put Mjolnir and the stone-case on the ground, opened the case, and looked back at her. He didn’t want to touch the Time stone directly, remembering how the Tessaract had done something strange when he put it back. Plus, Quill and the others had been very clear about mortals touching the stones being lethal.

The Ancient One nodded at him, stepped forward, and looked down at the case for a moment. “It’s remarkable, really, that this plan of yours worked,” she said.

Steve smiled slightly and said, “Yeah, well, it was a long shot, but it was the only thing we had left to try.” She looked over at him. She said, “Do you appreciate the amount of power that sits in this case?”

Steve nodded slowly. “And yet you are going about your business, putting them all back?” she asked him.

Steve nodded again. He said, “Bruce told me we needed to clip the branches, and I just heard you say to him that terrible alternate dimensions would exist because the stones had been removed.” Really, what other option did he have?

The Ancient One studied him for a few moments. At length, she said, “You truly are a remarkable person, Captain Rogers.” Then she leaned down to the case, and amongst all the stones, pointed to the Time stone, and it rose, glinting green in the sunlight, and then sailed smoothly through the air towards the Eye of Agamotto around her neck, which she held out to receive it.

It happened again: that sensation that when Steve blinked, even as the Time stone moved smoothly to rest inside the Eye, it was alternatively already there and not already there.

He shook his head, trying to clear that vertiginous feeling. The Ancient One barked a short laugh. She asked, “Feeling all right?”

Steve said, “Yeah, I’m... I’ll be fine.” He looked up at her and saw her smiling knowingly. What did she know that he didn’t? It was as if she knew he was about to ask. 

“All right, I’ll bite,” he said. “That happened when I put the Tessaract back, too. What is going on?”

The Ancient One gestured gracefully with her hands and the Eye closed, hiding the Time stone from sight. She sighed.

“You just said you came back to ‘trim the branches,’ but that isn’t quite how reality works. Especially the way you’re traveling it, using quantum mechanics.” Steve just looked at her, unsure what she meant.

She actually laughed, now, and said, “Captain, are you familiar with the wave-particle duality in physics?” 

Steve shook his head, turned back to the stone-case to close it, and then stood up, facing her. He said, “I was never that technically minded.”

The Ancient One said, “Well, it is an early study of quantum realities. Quantum mechanics usually acts on the very small scales of the universe, below the size of an atom.” Steve nodded.

“These experiments showed that both matter and energy, at that scale, behave in different ways if you are, or are not, observing them. Physicists in the early 1900s discovered that, say, an electron, had not a physical form in a specific location, but a cloud of possible locations,” and she gestured to create an image in the air of a spherical golden cloud, hovering between them.

“Then,” she said, “When the electron is observed, suddenly that cloud collapses to the location in which it is observed.” And she gestured, and the sphere shrunk into a single point of light near to the center of where the cloud had been. “And what makes that happen? Consciousness. ‘The observer.’ ”

Steve nodded. “But what does that have to do with what happens when I put the stones back?”

The Ancient One raised a finger, and said, “You and your friends are playing with quantum mechanical fluctuations at a macro-scale, at the size of people, objects, and in the end, entire divergent realities.” She paused, as if trying to decide how best to explain this to him.

Then she continued. “When one of you has made a change to what you perceive as your past, in 2012, for example, you introduce a pathway into another reality that would typically not be reached from this reality so easily. Different universes are not usually so... near to each other, I suppose, is the simplest way to say it.”

She paused for a while, and Steve said, “You said ‘trimming the branches’ wasn’t the right way to put it. What would be?”

“It is more akin to... weaving those branches back into the one you know as reality,” she said. “When one of you makes a change in the past, and creates an alternate reality, the quantum macro-states are very near each other. Consciousness will choose what it expects to see, and therefore reality will appear persistent.” 

Steve must have looked confused, because the Ancient One said impatiently, “You know you are holding a stone, and it has been removed, and you are about to hand it to me. But there is another reality, just slightly away from us, which is the past as you remember it, in which I’ve had the stone all along. And your consciousness is largely able to follow the reality you believe yourself to be in. But as the realities converge again, to one in which I have the stone, your consciousness may switch between the two realities in that last second or so.”

Steve thought about this for a moment. “But then how can we be sure I’m traveling along the correct branch, when I arrive to put a stone back, if I can switch between the two? Bruce said he had to send me back before the branch to make sure I didn’t accidentally go to the wrong one. And no matter how fast I am, there will be at least a few moments before I can put it back.”

The Ancient One smiled at him. “You *are* a quick study. Might have made a decent sorcerer, had you been so inclined.” 

Steve actually felt a little embarrassed at the compliment. “Well, you can see my expertise has taken me in a different direction,” he said.

She laughed shortly. “At any rate, it’s a good question. The answer is again, consciousness and what it expects. You expect to come here, and to see Bruce arrive to take the stone from me, and so your consciousness guides you into the reality in which that happens. It’s only in the moments when they converge and you can reasonably expect the stone to be returned that your mind begins to oscillate between the two realities.”

Steve shook his head and said, “It’s a little hard to believe that I can make that happen just by thinking.”

The Ancient One walked slowly to the edge of the roof, looking out in the direction of the destruction near Stark Tower; there was still smoke rising from all the wreckage. She said, without looking at Steve, “You may find it hard to believe. But consciousness has a powerful effect on reality, at the quantum level, and for those of us with training, experience, or technology, at the macro level as well. And everyone shapes their own reality in ways they often do not see. We are always missing chances to choose our own realities. But that blindness will work in your favor on this project.”

Steve looked down at the stone-case, picked it up, felt the heft of it. It wasn’t... heavy, exactly. But somehow the stones did have a kind of gravity that he was very aware of. As he bent down to pick up Mjolnir, the Ancient One looked back at him. She looked slightly troubled. She fixed him with a piercing gaze and asked, “Tell me, Captain Rogers, are you certain you can weave all of these divergences back in to the reality you know?”

Steve thought through the rest of the stones, and had to pause on the Tessaract. He’d just put it back, but... that was because they’d failed to get it in 2012. Loki had made off with it. He’d thought he’d try to prevent that, but the way Scott and Tony had described it, Steve thought there wasn’t likely to be a real window to intervene.

He sighed and said, “Mostly, yes. But we made a mistake in 2012 trying to get the Space stone. Loki took it somewhere else.” The look of shock on the Ancient One’s face took Steve by surprise. He added, by way of reassurance, “I don’t think Loki can leave this reality the same way we did, though, so the stone will stay in 2012 – you said to Bruce that the stones create what we perceive as reality, right? So that stone is still here, somewhere.”

The Ancient One shook her head, still horrified, and took a moment to compose herself. Then she said, “I was being brief with Doctor Banner. It’s not only the removal of the stones that cause divergent realities. It is that which a consciousness cannot ignore that causes it.”

With a sinking feeling, Steve thought he caught her drift. But just to be sure, he said, “So you’re saying that just the fact that everyone expected Loki to be there, and the stone, and now they’re not, means that there’s a divergent reality there that we can’t fix.”

She nodded, and turned and sat on a bench. She seemed to be trying to decide how to proceed with him. “It’s an alternative to the idea of the ‘butterfly effect.’ You’ve heard of that?” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, the idea that a butterfly flaps its wings on one side of a planet, and eventually you get a hurricane in Florida.”

“Yes. The butterfly effect is a consequence of chaotic systems, in which a very small change in the starting state of the system will cause it to travel a radically different path, due to the complexity of the system. But consciousness is a strong feedback to maintain the momentum of reality, even when small changes in state are made. So in our case, if you make a change that is small enough for someone to ignore, or dismiss... then consciousness will see what it expects to see, and maintain the overall momentum of that reality.” She shook her head, apparently not able to reassure herself that he understood the implications of what she was saying.

She stood up, and said, “Unless you can minimize your incursion into any other point in your own reality’s timeline, unless you can keep it below something someone will notice, you will cause a divergence. And... I fear that will have potentially catastrophic consequences for all realities.”

Now Steve felt fear creep in. He’d been confident that he could put the stones back where they’d got them. He *wasn’t* so confident that he could undo every thing any of them had done to interact with the other realities. “Why don’t you enlighten me on how that would come about,” he asked her.

The Ancient One walked back towards him and as she spoke, conjured a gold, sparkling stream of light in the air. She said, “Here is your reality, the timeline you know. And here, by making a change in the course of events by causing someone to see something they didn’t expect and couldn’t dismiss, you create a branch,” and she gestured, and a golden branch diverted itself from that one, streaming off at a slight angle. So far, Steve knew this part.

“Now, up here in 2023 is where you are starting to muck around with quantum mechanics-based space-time-reality travel,” and she highlighted a point near the end of the main gold stream. “That is how you were able to create these branches in the first place. But suppose in that alternate branch,” and she pointed at the new reality branch, “Thanos gets the stones, wipes out half of all life, and you and your friends do the same thing you’ve done in your reality – use quantum mechanical travel to come back and take the stones.” The equivalent point in 2023 on that branch now lit up.

Steve shook his head. “But we stopped Thanos.” The Ancient One seemed a little impatient, perhaps a little desperate. “In *your* reality, you were able to do so. But in an alternative reality, might you not do just exactly the same thing?” Steve nodded slowly.

“So, if in that reality, you *also* make some changes that can’t be woven back in, dismissed by the inhabitants of that reality, then that branch also generates a branch,” she said, and gestured; the second branch now had its own sub-branch. 

“And that’s only a single mistake, only a single divergence, and already we have three branches. Say you made two branches each time, two changes?” and suddenly there were two sub-branches off the new one, instead of just one... and an entirely new branch, with its own two sub-branches, off of the main reality.

And now the Ancient One said, “And now imagine that in each of these branches, you also need to come back to get the stones to defeat Thanos.” Suddenly each sub-branch had its own branch, doubling the number of gold streamers between her and Steve. “And now imagine how this propagates.” And each branch branched again, and again, and again, and soon there was a solid mass of gold between the two of them. Steve could feel a kind of panic start to settle in on him as he grasped the enormity of what she was telling him.

From the other side of the seething mass of golden branches, Steve heard the Ancient One say, “There are always many realities. But usually we need a way to specifically step from one to another. If these branches, these pathways, bring the realities so close each other, make them so densely layered, eventually consciousness may not be able to stay fixed in one reality, or to make sense of two that are too close but not quite the same. It would cause a kind of collective madness. Quite simply, a breakdown in the fabric of reality.”

Then, abruptly, the gold mass disappeared, leaving the Ancient One standing across from him, looking extremely grave. “Captain Rogers, are you prepared to take responsibility for all these branching pathways you and your friends have created, or will create?” she asked him.

Steve didn’t know what to say. He grasped at the only thing he could: “I’ll try. What can I do? I don’t think I can stop Loki from taking that stone.”

The Ancient One sighed, and looked away from him. Then she said, “That means there will be a branch you cannot weave back in. So you must provide that branch with the tools it will need in order for you and your friends *not* to invent quantum time travel.” 

Steve nodded. He said, “Actually, I know what I would need to tell them, in 2012, to be sure to prevent Thanos from succeeding, and that should keep us from needing to come back to get the stones, in that timeline.”

The Ancient One looked at him, seriously. She said, “Remember, consciousness will ignore even fairly implausible things, such is its desire for continuity, as a basis for sanity. You will need to convince someone not to dismiss your information – but without introducing too many new changes to that reality.”

Steve smiled. He said, “I have someone in mind.”


	46. Chapter 46

Steve used a Pym particle to travel back a little before they had arrived at Stark Tower in 2012 to try to take the stones, right in the middle of the battle with the Chitauri. He’d been talking with the Ancient One a lot longer than he’d planned, and he needed to be sure to arrive in the right place to not only put the Mind stone and painstakingly preserved Scepter back, but also to be prepared to leave a brief note he’d written that gave the information necessary to prevent Thanos’ success in that timeline. Fortunately he had extra Pym particles, and equally fortunately, he knew just where to go.

Steve got himself in position, and waited, out of sight, in an office below the place he knew he’d encountered himself, up on the 14th floor. He watched as his 2012 self walked across the glass bridge, far above him, running smack into his 2023 self carrying the case with the Scepter in it. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he imagined his 2023 self saying; he couldn’t hear them from down here. And then the two of them started to fight each other. He grinned to himself, thinking how ridiculous he looked, fighting himself. How naive his 2012 self was, and how tolerant his 2023 self was about it, though obviously while still needing to fulfill their mission. 

Steve did notice, though, as he watched them, that his 2012 self was faster and stronger than his 2023 self... maybe the 12 years he’d been out of the ice *had* aged him a little bit, after all... he’d never been sure exactly how the serum would affect his aging in the long term. 

Heh, Steve thought: but 2023 me does know more moves than 2012 me. He watched as his older self did some martial arts combos and almost got the upper hand. But though his older self was clearly more experienced, he was slower and not quite as flexible. Or as resilient, he thought, watching as the two of them crashed through various glass walkways and awnings, landing hard on the floor across from the office he was hiding in. 2023 Steve struggled to get up a little more than 2012 Steve did, and showed more pain.

And then, there it was: first, his compass had fallen out, and the younger him saw it, asked in shock where older him had gotten it; and then a moment later, 2012 Steve had 2023 Steve in a headlock, and out of desperation, 2023 Steve said that Bucky was alive. That distraction worked, and 2023 Steve knocked his younger self out using the Scepter.

“That is America’s ass,” the older version of him said, looking down at the prone younger Steve. Then he turned and left Stark Tower.

“All right, I’m up,” Steve murmured to himself. He figured he had only a few minutes before his 2012 self would revive; he wasn’t sure how long the Mind stone’s control would last. Steve had already unshrunk the Scepter and put the Mind stone back in it (and replaced the remaining containers, re-shrunk, in his belt), so he simply set the Scepter down where 2023 Steve had just picked it up, noting the usual disorientation when two realities merged. Of course, this reality wasn’t going to merge with the one he knew. And there would still be some confusion in this reality as to how the case had gotten here and who the other Steve had been; hopefully everyone else would assume it was Loki, who had in fact just made off with the Tessaract. But at least there would be only one alternate reality branch, not two.

The trickier thing was to get 2012 Steve’s compass out of his belt pocket, especially without rousing him earlier than necessary. But Steve managed it, and tucked the little note inside, put the compass in his younger self’s hand, and then hid out of sight. It was too important to make sure 2012 Steve saw the note; if he didn’t, then Steve would risk actually speaking to him. But he thought there were too many ways that could go wrong, starting with 2012 Steve attacking him even though the Scepter was recovered. And it was imperative that no one else in 2012 learn that time travel was a possibility, and the longer Steve stayed visible, the more chance others would see him. So he hoped the note worked.

It had been difficult, deciding exactly what to tell himself in order to prevent Thanos’ Cull – and the note had to fit inside the compass. At least he knew that the Steve from 2012 would believe him. His memory, thanks to the serum, was extremely sharp. He knew that 2012 Steve would remember that he’d said Bucky was alive. No matter that he’d knocked himself out moments later. 

When the Ancient One had referred to even implausible things being ignorable... he knew himself. Something like the idea that Bucky was still alive wasn’t something he would have been able to dismiss. He could still remember how he’d felt in 2012, still remembered the pain of waking up, having lost everything… And his younger self had noticed the duplicate compass with Peggy’s picture in it; 2012 Steve would know that somehow, some way, he hadn’t been Loki. Loki wouldn’t have had known to replicate the compass. Frankly, the duplicate shield should have given him away, but in the heat of combat that clearly hadn’t occurred to 2012 him. But the compass was a sure sign.

So the note simply said, “Loki & Thanos - Infinity Stones - tell Thor. Have Fury call Danvers. Destroy Scepter.” Then Steve couldn’t help himself: he’d added the coordinates for the Siberian facility where Bucky was kept, and the words “HYDRA – Sitwell, Rumlow, and Pierce; extreme caution warranted – only tell Nat.” Then, finally, he’d crammed in on the back: “Don’t tell anyone how you know – reality depends on it. Say it was Loki who tried to take the scepter.” And he had signed the note “Steve.”

He waited only a few moments before he saw his younger self stir. 2012 Steve sat up, groaning. After another moment, he looked down at the compass in his hand, saw the edge of the note sticking out, opened the compass, and read the note.

Steve watched him look around in confusion, trying to see where the other version of himself had gone, and then say, “Son of a bitch.” Steve knew that tone of voice, and the look on his younger self’s face. He believed the note. And Steve trusted himself, especially the version of himself that hadn’t yet been betrayed by SHIELD or lost Peggy to old age, to keep this to himself and be discreet, but to take action on it.

2012 Steve put the note back in the compass, put the compass back in a hip pocket, and picked up the Scepter. He looked around for the case, which was nearby; knelt to shake shattered glass pieces out of it and put the Scepter inside. He closed the case, took it by the handle, and stood, looking around one last time. He put his hand to his ear and said to the team, “Loki tried to take the scepter; I stopped him; the scepter is secure. Loki is still at large.” And he walked away, back towards the elevators.

Steve sighed, decided this was the best he could do. He pulled out his quantum device and set the coordinates for Asgard in 2013.


	47. Chapter 47

It was a relief to leave Earth, actually. Everything there was so familiar, so dangerous. Everything there reminded him of everything he’d lost, and then gained again, and then lost, and then gained again.

When Steve arrived in Asgard, it was in the room next to Jane’s. He saw Rocket sneak in, give her an anesthetic, and then extract the Aether. He scampered off, and Steve heard guards notice him and give chase.

Steve slipped into the room and stepped up behind Jane’s prone form on the couch. He knelt down, unshrunk the case, pulled out the Syringe, and then opened the stone-case. He carefully removed the Reality stone with the forceps and placed it in the loading chamber of the Syringe and pressed the button Rocket had instructed him to. He heard a kind of subtle squealing sound as the stone reverted to its Aether form, filling the barrel of the Syringe; he could feel it straining to find a living host. 

Steve turned back to Jane, whispering softly to her, “Sorry, Jane,” and injected it back into her. It was terrifying, watching it flow into her body, watching the way she arched her back and drew in a gasping breath, even with the anesthetic. It utterly distracted him from the now-familiar feeling of realities merging. Steve shuddered and tried to remind himself that it was necessary, and she’d be fine; in fact, she’d fare better than Thor did, in the end. Jane settled back down to sleep, but it was restless and she was clearly in pain. Steve put a hand on her shoulder in silent apology. 

Then he thought for a moment about what to do with Mjolnir. Rocket said Thor had summoned it, which meant it had been somewhere else. But Steve thought to himself that Thor didn’t typically think about where he’d left his hammer; after all, no one else could lift it, as far as Thor knew, in 2013. Vision wouldn’t be created for two years, and it wasn’t until 2023 that Steve had really tried and revealed that he could. Steve reasoned that if he just left the hammer here with Jane, Thor would probably think he must have left it here; that shouldn’t cause a divergence, or at least, Steve couldn’t think of a better plan. 

So he carefully set it down on a nearby chair. It was surprisingly hard to part with. The hammer had a reassuring heft, and its power was a comfort, even though Steve hadn’t been planning to use it. His shield was in shrunken form in his belt pocket, so he could get it if he needed it, but there was something about wielding the Asgardian weapon that felt good. Moral authority, maybe? And, well, it *did* feel pretty satisfying to be able to call lightning down on your enemies. 

Well, gotta let it go, he thought. He patted Mjolnir’s elegantly carved surface and then stood up. Now that his tasks were completed, Steve took a quick look around the room; Asgardian design was beautiful, after all, if a bit ornate for his tastes. He crouched down again to re-shrink the case, which was quite empty, now, with only the Orb remaining, and put it back on his belt, and picked up the stone-case. Standing up once more, he spared a moment to look out the window.

Asgard was breathtaking, all golden spires and waterfalls, shining in the sun. A shame, Steve thought, that it would all be destroyed only four years later, if he remembered right what Thor had told him. He sighed and set the coordinates for Morag in 2014.

Morag was as desolate as Asgard was lush, full of ruined buildings of an ancient empire. Steve appeared some distance away and watched as Quill arrived, and danced around idiotically to music only he could hear. Steve felt a flash of gratitude for Ella and all the dancing they’d done, back in the day. He hadn’t much felt like dancing in the five years between the Cull and the Restoration, but he was pretty sure that if he were called on to break out some moves at the moment, he would still look a lot smoother than Star-Lord did right now. 

Steve saw Rhodey and Nebula sneak up and knock Quill out. Steve followed some distance behind and stayed just outside the temple as they went in to get the Orb. While he was waiting for them to leave, it was a little hard to hear Nebula say, “I wasn’t always like this,” and Rhodey respond, “Me either. But we work with what we got, right?” Steve felt that pang of guilt that Rhodey’s paralysis was his fault, his and Tony’s. 

He managed to get through that, though, and wait for them to leave; or at least, for Rhodey to leave. Steve knew Nebula had been taken by Thanos; but it was still hard to have to see how it played out. How she screamed in pain, and was forced to replay Thanos’ last moments, and then when that stopped, she weakly tried to warn the others. “Thanos knows...” she whispered. “He knows.” 

It didn’t take long before Thanos’ ship appeared in the skies above Morag. Steve felt such a wave of hate and fury. It was difficult to stay hidden, to watch Nebula be caught, a few moments later. And then he felt a correspondingly intense wave of despair as the entire ship disappeared. He knew where Thanos had gone, to Steve’s 2023, to try to take the newly-collected stones from them and remake the universe in his own image.

After the ship disappeared, Steve thought to himself that this was another branch he couldn’t undo. There had been no easy opportunity to warn Nebula somehow, to stop them from capturing her. And to really prevent the branch, she would have to not come at all, and Steve couldn’t undo that. 

But Thanos would never return to this branch of reality – Tony had killed him and his armies in their 2023. So... Steve thought carefully through this situation. All the stones were intact in this reality, but there would be no Thanos to try to wield them. It would diverge, but there would be no need for time travel, so the Ancient One’s concern for proliferating branches would not be a problem here.

It was just as well, he thought. Quill was a nice enough guy, but Steve didn’t really trust him to maintain the fabric of reality the same way he trusted his own younger self to do it. So he was glad that he could just let the rest of this universe continue on its own, new trajectory. 

Putting the Power stone itself back was easy, after everyone had gone except a thoroughly unconscious Quill: the Orb opened at the touch of a button, the stone went in, and the Orb closed up by itself. Steve couldn’t re-activate the traps that Nebula had disabled by sheer force of will, but he just set the Orb on the pedestal for Quill to find, then darted outside to keep an eye on him. Steve waited a few minutes for Quill to wake up, and then once Quill had the Orb, Steve put in coordinates for Vormir. 

This was the stone he was least certain of. He’d tried to ask Clint for more details, but Clint hadn’t been able to say much without breaking down. And Clint hadn’t fared so well over the last five years... so Steve hadn’t wanted to push him. Just let the man go have his life with his family, in peace. And... everyone was devastated to have lost Nat. So when they’d discussed Steve’s strategy for how to repair the damage they’d done to the timelines, all of them had been unwilling to speculate very much about Vormir.

The unspoken question between them was whether returning the Stone would somehow bring Nat back. There seemed to be an equally unspoken resignation, though, that it wouldn’t. Something about the way Clint talked about having got the stone, and Bruce, when he talked about having brought everyone else back...

Steve took a deep breath and activated the quantum device. His second-to-last jump, other than the one that would bring him home.


	48. Chapter 48

Vormir was dramatic, oppressive... more alien than anything he’d yet experienced. Steve moved some distance away from where he knew Natasha and Clint would arrive. And this, he thought, was the hardest of all. He watched them arrive. He watched them hike up the mountain where the Stonekeeper must be. And he was far enough away that he couldn’t see, but he could imagine, Natasha flinging herself off the cliff, despite Clint’s best efforts. And he felt the percussive shock that accompanied the flash of bright light that must be the Soul stone giving itself to the one who had given up what they loved. He could barely make out Clint, slowly standing up some distance away, and moving back towards the ship, to head home. Steve wasn’t sure if he imagined hearing Clint’s sobs, but he held his own back until the ship had taken off.

And then he knew he had to finish the task. He went to the mountain. He climbed it. And there was a final shock waiting for him.

“Welcome, Steven, son of Joseph,” an ethereal but somehow familiar voice intoned as Steve finished climbing the last steep pitch and came to stand in front of an ominous rough-hewn stone arch – really just two jagged outcrops leaning on each other – with steps leading up beyond it.

A cloaked figure drifted towards him, not quite touching the ground. “How fitting,” the Stonekeeper drawled. “That you should be the one to visit me next.”

Steve knew that voice. And as he stepped up and they faced each other, he saw that it was the Red Skull.

“Schmidt,” Steve said with disgust and resignation. Of course, Steve thought to himself, the Tessaract was fickle. As he replayed those final moments of his conflict with Schmidt on the Valkyrie, Steve realized that when Schmidt had held the stone, and Steve had thought he’d been destroyed... of course, the Space stone had just transported him. Here, apparently.

The Red Skull laughed hollowly but with a touch of humor. “I have not been Johann Schmidt for many decades.”

“Well, what are you, then?” Steve said with distaste. 

More hollow laughter. “You should be pleased. I was utterly taught my own folly. I held the Tessaract in my hand... and it told me I was unworthy to wield such power. And it cast me out; it cast me here. I have been given a kind of eternal penance, living here... serving as guide to those who would come to claim the Soul stone. Knowing each and every one of them; in all realities. Knowing I could never claim the stone myself. Informing the stone-seekers of the sacrifice the stone demands. And none, before your friends, was willing to pay the price.” He paused. “I admire them.”

Steve felt a surge of very old outrage. He said, “You have no right to talk about them.”

The Red Skull laughed again. He said, “I only speak of them as I have seen them here, moments ago; brave even in their extremity, and willing to sacrifice themselves for each other. Competing, in fact, to do so. This is a quality I never had, and a quality I could never have known was so much more powerful than any power I had sought, all those years ago.”

Steve felt the outrage fade to bitterness. After all, this was not Schmidt as he’d known him in 1945. And Steve was hardly who he’d been back then either.

Finally, Steve said, “Well, I’m here to return the stone.” The Red Skull nodded, somehow not surprised, and opened one arm in a gesture to the archway. 

“Then let us proceed, Captain Rogers,” he said. Steve followed his old enemy through the rock, to the altar on the other side.

The Red Skull intoned to him, “None have done what you are about to do. The wisdom of the stones, as it has been passed to me, says that you should cast the stone down, to your friend’s body. And it will return to its place of rest.”

Steve said, “Will that heal this timeline?” 

The Stonekeeper said, “Yes. I see all realities and all stone-seekers. If you do this, this reality will merge back with the others it is so similar to. But, know that this will not bring her back.” He paused, and a hint of the old Schmidt peeked through, “You and the others have earned the stone and its power; you have earned the right to keep it. Think carefully before you cast it back into the pool of infinity.”

Steve looked sideways at the Red Skull. Just like him, to tempt Steve at the last minute. But if Steve didn’t put this stone back, that could cause this reality to diverge, and potentially trigger the cascading reality branches the Ancient One had warned him of. And even if it didn’t – he didn’t want the power of the stone, anyway. They had only wanted the stones in order to undo what Thanos had done; and really, all Steve wanted now was peace. To be with his family. To stop having to make these kinds of choices.

Steve took a deep breath. He nodded curtly to the Stonekeeper, stepping to the edge of the altar. He looked down, and saw Natasha, still lying there. Probably not even cold, yet, he thought. It had really only been moments ago that she’d sacrificed herself. Steve had the wild thought of jumping down, himself, just to hold his friend in his arms, one more time. But that wouldn’t help anyone. This fall was designed to kill, no matter what serum flowed through your veins. And Natasha had done it to save half the universe, and most importantly, Clint’s family, and likely Steve’s own as well. Nat had never formally known about Sarah, but Steve knew she had guessed. And so Nat had known just how much Steve had lost. 

He couldn’t dishonor her sacrifice, now. Steve held back his grief, and his tears. The Stonekeeper might not quite be Schmidt any more, but damned if Steve would show weakness in front of him.

Steve opened the stone-case. He pulled out the Soul stone. Shrunk the empty case and put it back on his belt. And he looked down one more time, took careful aim, and hurled the Soul stone at Natasha’s lifeless body, along with all his grief, all his fury, all his bitterness.

As the stone touched flesh, there was another percussive shock and flash, and the sound of the Red Skull laughing in bitter irony, and then Steve was lying back on the ground in a pool of water, some distance from the mountain. He felt that something was in his hand; he raised it out of the water to look, and saw that it was a lock of Natasha’s hair. Red at the roots, and blonde at the ends. It was as if the stone was telling him she was really gone. 

This far away from the Red Skull, Steve just let the grief swallow him, let it all out. And then, he lay there for a long time. 

The next thing would be to put in the space-time coordinates for home. But he felt so exhausted. Never mind having lost everything; and then having lost everything again, twelve years later. Just in the last day of putting the stones back, the sheer drain of having to watch all of these terrible things happen again, and to have to enable them to happen, in order to make the timelines congruent… feeling the weight of responsibility for the fabric of reality... Visiting Asgard, knowing it would be destroyed in a few years. Listening to Rhodey talk about making do with what mobility he had. Seeing Natasha, dead. Hearing Howard Stark refer to Zola; knowing it meant Bucky was being tortured and forced to murder people in cold blood; knowing it meant HYDRA was living still inside SHIELD all that time. Knowing it meant that what Peggy was fighting for was being undermined, all the time.

And the Red Skull’s laughter. Steve’s own personal point of divergence – the reason he’d gone in the ice. Steve remembered saying to Bucky, he wasn’t sure he could do it, again, anymore. Choose to go in the ice. That if he had a second chance with Peggy, he’d take it.

And the vision of Peggy, the sound of her voice, from the 1970s, came back to him; and he remembered Bucky saying no one would begrudge him that second chance, if it ever came up. Steve had just laughed, then. How would such a thing ever be possible? But now he remembered the way Bucky had said goodbye, before Steve had left to take the stones back. 

He said he’d miss me, Steve thought. He didn’t expect me to come back. Not because it’s a dangerous mission, which it was, but... 

And then Steve remembered Ella, telling him he should do whatever felt right to him, in the moment. And he could imagine Nat – just as she had before he’d started dating Ella – saying something like, “You deserve a little romance. I didn’t expect you to go all the way back to the 1940s to get it, but you should definitely go for it.”

So, awash in grief, and before he could think the better of it, Steve entered the space-time coordinates of the house he knew Peggy lived in after the war. And disappeared from Vormir.


	49. Chapter 49

Steve crouched down behind the bushes in Peggy’s front yard. It was twilight, with darkness falling fast. The air smelled cleaner, sweeter, than he was used to, but it was also full of the smell of poorly-combusted gasoline as cars periodically drove down the street; old cars just weren’t as clean as they were in 2023. Mixed with that, he could smell someone nearby boiling potatoes, and jasmine blooming in the yard next door... 

It felt good. It felt so good, to be back in his own time. He’d come to love many things about the 21st century, but there was something comforting about how the air felt, the sounds of 1940’s music wafting past him... just the quality of the light, even as it failed into dusk, that was reassuring. This was home. Some part of him relaxed that he hadn’t realized had been tensed up for the last 12 years.

Steve was so lost in the sensations of 1945 that he almost didn’t duck in time as Peggy pulled up in her car, got out, and came up the front walk to her home. He just managed to pull himself behind the bushes before she could see him; he didn’t get a good look at her, but did note that she looked sharply in his direction, frowned, and then let herself into her home. He could hear her lock the front door behind her.

Now the enormity of what he was doing here struck him, and struck him hard. What had he been thinking, coming here? If anyone saw him... he’d have to take responsibility for this timeline, too. But Peggy was *right* *there*... 

Well, there was only a problem if anyone recognized him, he realized. If he could remain anonymous, that was safe enough. He was already here. Maybe just a few minutes? Maybe he could steal just a little time, to see Peggy as she had been, before everything went to hell in the future? So he dared to let himself sneak around to the back of Peggy’s house to see if he could peek into her kitchen.

One of the windows was just right for the purpose, so Steve very tentatively straightened up to watch as Peggy came into the room and casually threw some papers on the little breakfast nook table. She went to get a pan down – Steve had to duck as she came past the window – and pulled out some eggs, cracked them into the pan, and came to stand, looking down at the table, pushing papers one way and the other with deft motions of her fingers. That was SHIELD’s future founding director, all right, he thought.

Steve let himself be mesmerized by her for a few minutes. How beautiful she was, how sharp, how ultra-competent, how fierce. He realized how many times he’d pictured her, just like this... how he’d pictured coming into the room, taking her in his arms, and dancing cheek-to-cheek... how many times, back in the ‘40s, he’d imagined that, and even in the 2010s and 2020s, too.

The eggs began to sizzle, and then Peggy stepped out of view for a moment, and Steve remembered who he was, when he was from, what he knew about the dangers to the fabric of reality, and how important it was for him to leave, as soon as possible. He did have to admit that it was after all a bit creepy, to be spying on her like this. And besides, he had places he needed to be. The present, his present, in 2023, did still need him. He had loved ones there. Whatever flare-up of grief had fueled the error in judgment that brought him here had died down, and he thought the better of what he was doing. Time to go home.

It was much harder to actually leave than he expected, though. He pulled out the quantum device, entered the coordinates Bruce had sent him from, closed the helmet of the suit, and, as he hesitated a moment before pressing the button... suddenly he was hit on the head, hard, from behind.

Immediately, combat reflexes took over. He spun around, trying to trip his unseen assailant. That didn’t work, and after a few more moves, he realized this person was an expert fighter, with a lot of experience. He ducked a few blows he mostly felt (but didn’t see) coming, and managed to move away from the window to a more advantageous spot. Knowing he was risking being revealed, Steve tried to make a break for it, but his adversary aimed a particularly effective kick at his knee, and it was painful enough for a few moments that it was all he could do to get a few steps ahead of whoever it was. 

They ended up around the back of Peggy’s house. Steve tried to avoid one last blow, but as they got close to her porch steps, the light from the kitchen spilling out from the back door caught the face of his opponent: it was Peggy.

In that moment of shock, she managed to land a blow on him hard enough to knock his head against the concrete of the back steps.

“That’ll stop you, prowler, from messing with the likes of –” Peggy started to say, but as Steve’s head knocked against the step, somehow out of reflex, he hit the button that opened the helmet and retracted the quantum suit, and he became totally visible to her.

She gasped. “Steve?” she said. Oh, shit, he thought. This is the divergence, right here. She can’t ignore this. She has no explanation for this. 

Peggy had pulled a gun out from someplace and was holding it on him, apparently disbelieving and maybe a bit terrified. “Who are you?” she asked, imperiousness just slightly betrayed by a tremble in her voice.

“Well, fuck,” Steve swore softly to himself. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. He took a deep breath and said, “You once told me that you knew what it was like to have every door shut in your face. And... you were the one who reminded me, at just the right moment, that I was more than a dancing monkey.” They had been alone, for the most part, when those exchanges had been made. He hoped she remembered; it was recent for her, after all.

Peggy drew in a long, shaky breath. The gun, however, was not shaking at all. That remained trained on him with unerring precision. She said with irony, “Well, I see we’ve established who *I* am.” It was such a perfect thing to say, and she was so beautiful, and so deadly, and... so *her*...

And somehow it all just came together, all the craziness of his life, and for a moment, it all became so... funny. Steve started to laugh, slowly. He said, “And... and when you caught me kissing that Private, I don’t even remember her name anymore...” he laughed a little harder. “You taught me a lesson I will never forget. And that made you the first person to test my shield, too.” His laughter wound down a bit. “The first of many.”

Peggy’s aim slowly sank, until the gun was pointed at the ground. “Lorraine,” she said. “Her name was Lorraine.”

Steve laughed again, leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Lorraine. Right.” He paused and looked up at Peggy. “You know, I’m *still* sorry about that. But I was so clueless back then...”

Peggy shook her head. She said, disbelieving, but less afraid, “Steve? How is this possible?” She tucked the gun somewhere that he didn’t follow, though he heard her engage the safety as she did it.

Steve sighed, and stood up. He said to her, “It’s going to take a while to explain. And I haven’t eaten in about a day now. Do you think I might come in for some dinner?”

Peggy raised an eyebrow at his forwardness, but then exclaimed, “Oh! The eggs!” And she went back into the house. Steve just followed her, hoping that the eyebrow had been assent. What was that Ella had always said about explicit consent? Well, he was pretty sure this was all right. Might as well go with it. He’d messed this situation up royally, but maybe with Peggy’s help he could fix it. It was hard to think of someone else who would be better qualified to do so.


	50. Chapter 50

So then, Steve had the surreal experience of sitting with Peggy, eating dinner in her home, in 1945. It was strangely easy, with her... it seemed like she was adapting remarkably quickly to the reality that he was here with her, when she’d only just lost him in the ice six months or so ago, and at the same time, she was responding to him in a way that made it clear to him that she viewed him as something of a stranger. He wasn’t her Steve, and she knew it. And yet, she was still open with him, she was still willing to connect with him. He found himself admiring her resilience, with an entirely different perspective than when he’d known her in his twenties; or in her nineties.

So that was nice enough. But in the back of his mind, Steve knew he’d screwed up, in that this reality would diverge, because Peggy knew that he was alive. He weighed what to do for a bit, as they ate and chatted – about cooking, of all things (he was again grateful to Ella for giving him something to talk about, when it came to food). Should he ask for her help in fixing what he’d broken? Or should he try to somehow do it himself? The more he told her, the more she’d be on the hook. And eventually Steve decided to tell Peggy at least some of what was going on, though he would be judicious about what he told her and what he left out. He started by warning her that the more she knew, the more she might need to intervene in events. Peggy just nodded and said, “Steve, I can see you’re in trouble. I have faith in you, that you wouldn’t be in trouble if it weren’t important. I’m on board.”

So he explained that he’d been frozen in the ice, revived 66 years later, and then after restoring the universe following a cataclysmic event (which he didn’t specify), he’d come back in time to clean up afterwards, and ended up here. But now that she knew he was here... Steve said he worried that he’d messed it all up, because he’d just wanted to see her again, so badly...

Peggy took it all in stride, and he marveled at her composure. It did falter a little, when he said how much he’d wanted to see her, but she had grasped nearly immediately what the Ancient One had told Steve about the dangers to the multiverse of timelines left unchecked. So then they discussed what to do about it. It was actually a huge relief to have her advice on what to do. 

Peggy started by saying, “I could just keep it all to myself. Not tell anyone about the future.” Steve looked at her doubtfully.

“No matter how good an agent you are, I can’t imagine that you’ll be able to anticipate all the possible ways in which you might cause the timeline to diverge by knowing that I’m alive, and knowing we invented time travel. Knowing that something terrible happens to the universe in the 2010s.” Peggy glanced sideways at him with a look of rebellion on her face, but he continued, “No, I think it’s safer to set this timeline up to make sure we won’t need to invent time travel.” And, he thought to himself, maybe if this timeline was going to diverge anyway, something could be done about Zola and Bucky, right from the start...

Peggy studied him for a moment, then sighed and ate her last bite of egg. She said, “You always were so stubborn. I see the future hasn’t driven that out of you.”

Steve laughed. “No, it hasn’t. It just made me more stubborn, when I know what’s at stake.” She looked up at him and smiled sadly. She said, “It hasn’t been kind to you, has it? Your life, since I saw you last.”

Now Steve sighed. “No, it hasn’t.” He thought fleetingly about all the losses. But then... he thought of the good things, too. He said, “There have been a few bright spots.”

“Oh?” Peggy asked. Steve smiled, and said, “I have a daughter.”

Peggy’s look began as shock but then graded quickly into a kind of dangerous intent – an almost predatory look. It looked frighteningly like it did after she’d caught Lorraine kissing him.

“Do you, now?” she asked. Steve said defensively, “Hey, hey – you got married had had two kids, and grandkids, already, by the time I woke up. In my timeline, when you were in your nineties, you told me many times that I should get on with living my life.” Peggy relented a little. He added, “Don’t think I didn’t wish I could get back here, to have that life with you. Until now, it wasn’t an option.”

That caught her by surprise. She said, “Can you... can you stay? Your daughter...”

Steve sighed. He hadn’t honestly thought quite that far. He was still preoccupied with what to do about the timeline. Ensure the integrity of reality, first; deal with your personal life second. Still: “Well, I have a few extra time-travel particles. So I can still go back home, anytime. I can return to right when I left; they won’t even miss me.”

“Hmm,” Peggy mused. “But what do we do about this cataclysm, in my timeline?”

Steve leaned forward, using a finger to wipe up the last of the oil from the eggs on his plate. He put his finger in his mouth, savoring the familiar taste of the old kind of vegetable oil his mother used to use, and he’d used, when he was on his own in his teens and early twenties. Ella only cooked with olive oil, and other things that were even more exotic. He hadn’t tasted food like this in a long time. He sighed, and said, “Yeah. I don’t know. I mean, I do know... who we need to communicate with about what, and when. But it’s all pretty far in the future when that will need to happen. I’d need to stay a long time to make sure we did the right things then.”

Peggy pursed her lips. Then she stood, taking both their plates to the sink. Steve automatically stood and came over to help her wash the dishes; after all, dishwashers weren’t common back in the ‘40s. Peggy looked a little surprised, but after she washed the plates, she handed them to him and he dried them for her. She had to tell him where to put them away; he found himself feeling a little clumsy all over again. Helping her clean the dishes felt very familiar, like he had always helped Ella and Ethan; but when he remembered it was Peggy he was helping, it made him fumble when he went to put the dishes away. Fortunately he didn’t break any of her dishware.

She chuckled at him as he got the plates stacked but with a little more noise than necessary, and finished drying the pan herself. Steve turned back to see her trying to hook it on the wall up above the oven; it was just a little out of reach. He stepped over and held out a hand to her. Peggy blew out a breath in frustration, perhaps not wanting to acknowledge that he *was* taller and it would be easier for him, but then she handed him the pan. Steve stretched up to hook it on the wall, and as he turned back to her, realized just how close they were standing to each other.

Peggy was looking up at him, expression hard to read. She said, “You really aren’t my Steve, are you.” He shook his head.

“No, your Steve is safely hibernating in the ice off Greenland. But I remember being him, vividly.” She sighed, and for just a second, Steve felt an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her. But not only would that be more forward than he would have been in the ‘40s, but he really wasn’t sure what was right, here. There was a weird power dynamic that had to do with their differences in life experience. He had 12 years more knowledge than this Peggy did; and it was experience of a world that wasn’t to be for another 70 years. And, he thought, it might never come to pass exactly that way, now that he’d interfered.

And that reminded him of their problem. He said to her, “I still don’t know what to do about this timeline.”

Peggy said, “Well, what did you do in the other timelines you couldn’t fix?”

Steve sat down at the little breakfast nook table again, and Peggy sat across from him. He said, “Well, in one case, the difference took care of itself. In the other... well, I told the only person I trusted, what to do... and only really briefly.”

Peggy asked, with just a hint of a taunt to him, “And who was this person Captain America trusted with the fate of the multiverse?”

Steve half-smiled at her and said, “Myself.”

Peggy laughed out loud. “Of course.”

Then she looked away, clearly thinking intensely about the problem. Then she said, “What if we could find you?”

Steve looked at her in surprise. “Well, it’s true that I know the coordinates of where I was found. You know how my memory is. And twelve years hasn’t wiped that bit of information out yet.” Peggy nodded. Steve went on, “Part of why Howard couldn’t find me right away was because they were following the signature of the Tessaract, and it melted its way out of the Valkyrie well before I had to crash it.” 

It felt strange to refer to that traumatic event so casually, when Peggy had just experienced it so recently; he saw her wince slightly, and felt a bit bad about it. It was such old news for him. And of course, here she was, and here he was, talking to her. So one of his biggest losses wasn’t feeling as bad as it usually did, right now. But that probably wasn’t helping her quite as much, because it was so raw and he wasn’t entirely the right version of himself, anyway – it wasn’t as simple as her having him back.

Steve reached across and put a hand on Peggy’s. It was a little forward, he thought, not knowing how she felt about strange-future-him. But on the other hand, he’d learned over the years that people wanted physical reminders that people cared for them. And whatever he was to this Peggy, and whatever she was to him, she had always been his friend and advocate, in his timeline. He wanted to reassure her.

Peggy laughed at him, eyes glistening a little. She said, “Well, now I know you’re all right, so, I guess it’s not so terrible as I thought.”

Steve patted her hand and then sat back. He continued his train of thought: “Well, anyway, I can probably find myself. I know we’ll be looking on land, first of all, and I know pretty much right where to start. It will be harder with only 1945 tech, and the ice and snow in that region shifts around a lot, so it’s probably not in the same location in the ‘40s as it was in the 2010s, but... I do know where to start looking. Even simple metal detectors should help, if I can get us close enough.”

Steve paused. Then he said, “But the tricky thing is, no one can know about me.” He pointed at himself. He meant, ‘this version of me.’

Peggy nodded, and then sighed. She said, “Then we will still need a way to get to Greenland to look for you, but without any outside help. I still work for the SSR, and there is a lot to do now that the war is over... but in a while, I could take some time off, I think, to look?” Steve nodded. “I could frame it as going on solo expeditions to train for operations,” she said. Then she added, “You don’t need to risk staying. You could leave me with a note, for yourself.”

Steve shook his head. He said, “I was able to leave a note for my past self in 2012, because events were so close to the time when everything went to hell. But this far back... I’d have to explain a lot. And... I can’t let you do this all on your own.” Peggy pinned him with a wilting stare. He modified his statement, “Not... not because you couldn’t do it on your own. I just feel responsible for the situation, so I need to help solve it. And I’m sure there will be some physical labor involved, you could at least use a hand with trying to dig me out.” Peggy reluctantly nodded.

Steve said, “And I’m pretty sure I can help get us there covertly. I’ve... had a lot of experience in moving undetected, as a way of life.”

Peggy looked at him sadly. “I can see that.” Then she laughed. “Though you didn’t really do your best work, earlier this evening, outside my window.”

Steve laughed with her. “Yeah, well. There was something about seeing you again, like this, after all this time...” He got quiet, gazing across the table at her. She looked a little uncomfortable, but he continued anyway: “I never thought I’d get the chance to see you again. Let’s just say I was... distracted.”

Peggy suddenly let herself become overcome with emotion. A few tears escaped her control, and she leaned towards him across the table. She said, “Oh, Steve... knowing you’re alive... even if you are buried in the ice somewhere... it’s... God, it’s such a relief.”

Steve leaned forward in response, and found himself taking her hands. The feeling of her skin, the strength in her fingers, and the pull of her deep brown eyes... it all threatened to overwhelm him. He said to her, “I’m glad. So much of my pain when I woke up in 2011 and found out what had happened, was that I thought about how much you would have suffered...”

Peggy sighed, and reached out with a hand to touch his face. Steve closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, she’d leaned close to give him a kiss on the cheek.

God, he wanted so badly to kiss her... If it had been Ella, Sharon, or Bucky, in 2023, he would have just done it. But this was a very different situation, so instead, he found himself murmuring to her softly, “I... I know I’m not *your* Steve, but... do you think you might indulge me with a dance? To make up for the one I missed? Your Steve will get his own chance, someday soon, I hope.”

Peggy laughed tearfully, and said, “Of course.” She stood and led him back to the living room at the front of the house. She turned on the radio, and then turned back to him. He very naturally took her hand in one of his and put the other on her waist, gently pulling her into the right position and beginning a simple step that fit the low-key song that was on. Peggy looked at him with a kind of flirtatious grin. She said, “I take it you...”

Steve laughed, and said, “I learned, yeah. I’m sorry it wasn’t you.” She shook her head and returned, “Well, I can’t fault you, if I was in my nineties when you came to.”

They just swayed like that for a few minutes. Steve held Peggy tentatively, realizing how many years he’d been waiting for this, and how goddamn good it felt, to finally do it...

He heard something in the music that he thought would work for a turn, and Peggy willingly followed his lead. As she came back around after a slow spin, she said to him, “Who taught you, in that future of yours?”

Steve chuckled. He said, “Ella. The mother of my daughter.” Peggy raised her eyebrows. She said, “And... not your wife?”

Now Steve really laughed. He was fairly certain he didn’t want to explain any of his relationships to 1940s Peggy this soon after meeting her. What he actually said was, “No. But that’s an even more complicated story.”

Peggy said, with teasing incredulity, “More complicated than time travel and multiverses?” Steve laughed and nodded, shrugging. She shook her head and put her attention back on the dancing.

The song wound down, and he let the gentle swaying motion of their bodies die out, until they just stood there, arms around each other. Peggy said to him, softly, “It... could take a while to find you in the ice.” Steve said back, just as softly, “It’s all right, if you don’t mind letting me sleep on your couch.”

Peggy laughed. Then she said, “You’re really all right... staying here?” She obviously meant, in her time. And for the second time in the last day, Steve abandoned caution out of love and desperation.

He took her by the hands, and said earnestly, “Peggy Carter, you were the love of my life. I would stay here forever, if I could. I don’t think I should, once we find my 1945 self, but... I would stay with you as long as you would let me.”

Peggy stretched up and pulled him down to her and kissed him passionately. Everything in him was on fire with a bizarre mixture of feelings: grief, desire, hope... and several other things he didn’t have time to look into (maybe guilt towards the 1945 him who should be the one to do this?), because Peggy broke out of the kiss and said to him, “Then stay. Stay with me, Steve.” He nodded, and said, “Then I will.

Another song came on, and Steve shifted her arms, sending her into a little turn, before resuming dancing. Peggy laughed in a surprisingly genuine and innocent way. He asked her, “Will you dance with me, every day I’m here?” 

Peggy nestled in close as they danced. She said, “Of course.”

Then Steve had a thought. He said, “If I’m staying, and I’m messing with this timeline anyway...” Peggy looked at him questioningly. “Then there are a few other things I want to tell you about right away...” He smiled at her, and she nodded emphatically. He hadn’t been able to put things right in his universe, until well after all the damage was done. In this one... well. They had work to do.


	51. Chapter 51

“Doh-bell!” Sarah cried. Ella smiled. It was on Sarah’s short list of compound words. Never mind that she said it after the doorbell had in fact rung, so it wasn’t like she was actually alerting anyone to anything they didn’t already know, but what could you reasonably expect from a two-year-old, anyway? Ella figured that Sarah was just excited that she knew the word for that sound. Mercifully she hadn’t yet learned how to press the doorbell button herself.

Sitting in the living room, working on editing a blog post about development issues post-Restoration, Ella didn’t even look up as Thomas ran past his sister to open the door. “May I help you?” he asked seriously, politely. Ella smiled again, absently. He had just a touch of his father’s UK accent, and even after a month of getting used to him being seven, that little detail kept catching her by surprise.

The person at the door took some time in answering. Sarah toddled up and yelled “Old!” – another of the words she knew. Ella winced at the contrast in politeness and quickly saved the document she’d been working on and shut the computer, going to address the person at the door more appropriately than her daughter.

As she neared the door, Ella heard someone chuckle, and say, “Hello, little one. I’m here to see your mother.” The voice was husky, a little ragged, but... was that Steve’s voice? He’d been gone for a month, after he’d left to go set everything right after the Restoration.

She stepped around the door, and looked over Thomas to see something impossible: an old man, maybe in his late eighties or possibly early nineties, smiling fondly down at her daughter. An old man who was, to her, unmistakably Steve Rogers.

Ella tried to contain her shock, and before she could say anything, Steve chuckled again and held out a hand. He said, “Joseph Grant. I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time. But I have to bring you and your family some bad news.”

Ella nodded, and shook Steve’s hand. His grip was still firm, though she could feel the swelling of arthritis in the joints, and his skin was now mottled with age spots and a little loose against the bones and muscles. She tried to wrap her head around what was going on, but failed.

So Ella just let Steve in, shutting the door behind him. He moved slowly but confidently to the dining room, where he sat himself at the table. She said to Thomas, “Would you go upstairs and fetch your father, love?”

Thomas nodded and went to go get Ethan, and Sarah toddled over and demanded to be picked up. Ella absently did so, and sat down at the table next to Steve.

“What happened?” she asked him. He winked at her and said, “I’ll explain more fully when you and Ethan and I have some privacy.”

Ella realized that whatever had actually happened, Steve didn’t want the kids to hear about it. And whatever he wanted to say to the kids about what happened, especially Thomas, was whatever he was about to say as soon as Thomas and Ethan joined them. So she just studied Steve as they waited for the others to return. He was still handsome, even as an old man, and had the look of someone who had aged gracefully. 

Ella felt such a pressure to know what had happened that it was a miracle she kept her mouth shut. Fortunately it was only a moment before Ethan and Thomas came back down the stairs. Ella saw Ethan look with confusion at Steve; he’d always had trouble recognizing faces, and this was a very out-of-context sort of situation, just the type where he had the most difficulty. Ella, of course, had reason to be extremely familiar with Steve’s face, so even aged, she’d recognized him immediately. But she was confident that Ethan would figure it out partway through the conversation.

And he did; Steve started by saying, “It’s been a while. Joseph Grant.” He offered a hand to Ethan, who took it. Steve went on: “I’m a great-uncle of Steve Rogers.’” That cue was all Ethan had needed; Ella saw the shock of recognition on his face. Ethan knew better than to say anything, though, and Ella also saw Steve tighten his grip on Ethan’s hand as he saw Ethan recognize him.

“I’m very sorry to let you all know that Captain Rogers died in the attack in New York, alongside Tony Stark.” Ella was still terribly confused, but for Thomas’ sake, she reacted with her best imitation of shock and sadness. (Which wasn’t too hard, because she was still feeling a lot of shock about the whole situation.) She saw Ethan do so, as well, as he came to sit down heavily in the chair on the other side of Steve.

“I’m... I’m so sorry to hear it,” Ethan managed. Ella shook her head wordlessly. Whatever *had* actually happened to Steve, it must have been pretty terrible, for him to end up like this.

Thomas started to cry. He said, “Uncle Steve...” Ella pulled him close and hugged him. “It’s okay, Thomas. Uncle Steve was very brave. He worked very hard to protect all of us. He helped Sarah and me come back. I know he wouldn’t want you to be sad for him.” 

Ella looked at Steve as she said it; he looked back and inclined his head to her slightly in thanks for the acknowlegment. Thomas nodded and sniffled. Ella brushed the tears away, and added, “Not that you won’t still feel sad. It’s okay to feel sad. We’ll miss him very much. But he’d want us to live our lives, too.” Thomas nodded again.

Ella said to him, “Do you want to go out with aunt Naija to get ice cream?” Thomas said, still sounding forlorn, “Yes.” “You can take your sister with you,” she added, and Thomas nodded.

Ethan said, “I’ll text Naija,” and pulled out his phone to call Naija back to the house. “She’s just at the library, she’ll be here in a few minutes,” he said, after Naija responded.

Suddenly Sarah started to cry, watching Thomas still trying to keep from crying. Ella thought about how they’d always been like that, even before the Cull and Restoration had separated them by five years. They were always very attuned to each others’ moods.

Steve said, “May I?” and held out his hands for Sarah. Ella, surprised, nodded and handed the crying child to Steve.

He held Sarah close, stroked her hair, and somehow, after a minute, that seemed like it worked to soothe the little one.

Ella smiled, even through her continuing shock. Somehow Steve had always been able to soothe their daughter, better than she could.

Naija arrived, and Ella met her at the door, and explained they had a guest they needed to have some adult conversation with. Naija nodded knowingly, and did her best to get Thomas and Sarah excited to go get ice cream. It took a few minutes to get that plan in motion, but eventually they left and Ella shut the door behind them.

As she came back to the dining room, Ella saw Ethan and Steve still sitting at the table, Ethan leaning forward, clasping Steve’s hand in both of his.

Ella said, “All right, what the hell is going on here?”

Steve looked at her and said, smiling, “Well, I’m just showing my age.” Ella glared at him. “Seriously? Steve, come on, what happened?”

Steve sighed. He said, “I went, you know, to fix the timelines.” Ella nodded. “And then... In a moment of weakness... one of few I’ve had in my entire life... I went back to 1945.”

Suddenly Ella started to see where this was going. “You stayed. You stayed with Peggy?”

Steve nodded. He chuckled again and said, “You did tell me to do what felt right, and check in with you afterwards. So...” he opened his hands wide. “Here you go. I am checking in.”

Ella sat down heavily in the chair at the dining table again. “How long did you stay?” she asked, noting now that Steve was wearing a wedding ring. Peggy’s, she thought. Not that she was jealous... she’d had to get long past that with Steve, already. But... it was funny how, back when they’d first been dating, Ella had felt like Peggy was the other woman, even when she was in a coma. And now somehow, she was another partner of Steve’s... but in the past?

Steve said, “Only about ten years. But as time went on, I started to age at an accelerated rate. We didn’t know why, then. Peggy was very patient with me,” and he smiled. Ella remembered stories of Peggy and thought she hadn’t seemed like someone who would be patient by nature. But Peggy, of course, must have loved Steve very much. “She wanted me to return, to get back to Bruce who could help understand what was happening; back then they didn’t have good enough science to help, and no one could know I was there, anyway... but I had promised to stay until we found my 1940’s self, buried in the ice, and revived him.”

Steve sighed heavily. “And eventually, we finally found him. Then I could tell him what he needed to do to prevent any problems with Thanos in his future world. It was an alternative universe, you see, and it was absolutely essential that we didn’t let Thanos complete his Cull in that universe.” Steve let out a breath, slowly. Then he turned to Ethan and said, “I don’t suppose you could make some of that tea of yours? It’s been quite a while.”

Ethan laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “Of course, Mr. Grant,” he said, and got up to make some rooibos tea for the three of them. “Well,” Steve said noncommittally, in response to the name, and then laughed a little at Ethan.

Ella continued to fix Steve with a gaze that was equally about trying to make sense of what had happened, and also about trying to make sense of how she felt about him now that he was changed.

After all, he was still Steve. She could feel that he was still Steve. But definitely with more experience than when she’d last seen him. He *felt* older, though maybe not as old as he looked. She wasn’t physically attracted to him as she had been; and that made her feel a little bad. After all, if he was the same Steve, shouldn’t she be able to relate to him as she had? But he *was* different...

Steve went on as Ethan returned to the table while the kettle heated. “So once we’d revived the Steve who had been frozen for ten years in the ice, and got him up to speed, then I came back to the team. I did it discreetly, you see...” Steve raised a slightly knotty finger at Ella. “They were expecting me to reappear just where I’d left from, but you can see how jarring it is to see me like this. So I just planned to appear some distance away, let them come to me.”

Ella nodded. Maybe she was adjusting, because she could feel a part of herself softening towards him now that had been very guarded even a few minutes ago. His story did make sense, she thought, for the most part.

Steve settled his hands back in his lap. “And then I gave Sam my shield. I told him to be Captain America in my stead.”

Ella smiled outright at that. She said, “I can’t think of anyone more suited to it.” Steve nodded, smiling back at her. “And then Bruce worked on me for a few weeks in his gamma lab. The best we can figure, all of us on the team got exposed to a fair amount of radiation, bringing the stones from all those other places and times, and using them to bring everyone back and to finish off Thanos and his armies.” He sighed and shifted a little, uncomfortably, in the chair. Then he stood up and started to pace slowly around the room. “Sorry, the legs get a little restless, lately,” he said. The kettle whistled and Ethan got up to make the tea. Ella waited for Steve to go on.

“Anyway, but then *I* went to put them back, and traveled with all the stones on my person, and went through the quantum teleporter many times with all or most of them. Bruce thought that maybe something about all the exposure somehow changed the way the serum acted on my body, and caused me to age four times faster than the average person. So, I was about forty when I got there, in 1945... and now, after ten years, I have the body of an eighty-year-old. Fair exchange, I suppose, for what it did for me before that.” He sighed, then came to sit back down next to Ella, placing his hand over hers where they rested on the table. 

Ella could feel, in the gentle way he touched her, that his love for her hadn’t waned in the ten years he’d been gone. He might be... diminished, in some ways? But that didn’t seem like the right way to think about it, especially because he was certainly... better, in other ways. As he smiled at her, Ella noted that he seemed so much more at ease than she’d ever seen before. No, not just at ease... at peace. This was a Steve who had been able to spend time with everyone he’d loved, and said goodbye to them, mostly on his own terms. And it was certainly a lovely thing to see. She knew how much pain he’d endured over his disjointed lifetime. He deserved some rest from all of it. How could she begrudge him that?

Ella put her other hand on top of his, and gently squeezed it. Steve smiled at her, and then finished explaining: “So Bruce was able to neutralize the effects, even reverse them a little, and now I’m aging very slowly again. But... at any rate, I decided that the thing to do was to say that Steve Rogers died in the attack in upstate New York, fighting Thanos, just like Tony did. And I’ve started going by Joseph.”

Ella murmured, “Your father’s name.” Steve nodded. “And using my middle name as my last name,” he finished. Ella thought to herself that Thomas had technically seen Steve when he’d come back to visit after the time heist and the battle with Thanos... but hopefully the seven-year-old’s memory wouldn’t be good enough to remember that detail. And if he eventually figured it out when he was older, then he’d be mature enough to help keep the secret.

Ethan finished with the tea and brought a mug over for each of them. Steve said, “Ahhh...” and took the mug in both hands. “Feels good on the joints. Ethan, I’ve missed your tea.” Ethan nodded to Steve and smiled. “It’s an honor, Joseph, that you hold me in such esteem, after all your experiences.”

Steve chuckled again. “Heh. You always could manage a turn of phrase.”

Ella took a sip of her tea. She asked, “Where will you stay?” 

Steve shook his head, and said, “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Bruce only just gave me the go-ahead to leave the lab, about a week ago. And I basically came straight here. I still need to get word to Sharon; though Bucky was there when I reappeared, and stayed with me at the lab. He... he might be willing to go let Sharon know. I’ll admit a trans-Atlantic flight does not appeal to these bones so much, anymore. And I won’t be parachuting into or out of any tight spots ever again.”

Ella said, “So, you are as retired as you can be, then.” Steve nodded and said, “Though I thought I might go back to what I did when you were gone. Help with support groups, of the Restored. To help people, like you and Sarah, adjust to the lost time.”

Ella laughed sadly. She had of course thought of the parallels to his life experience. And now he’d been on both sides of it... multiple times, apparently. She said, “I’m sure that would be quite helpful.”

Steve nodded, and Ethan came over to the table, sipping his own tea. He remained standing, though. Clearly thinking something over. Ella wondered for a moment what about; but then Ethan said, “So, you are really no danger to us, anymore.”

Steve looked up at him in surprise. Ethan fixed him with a knowing gaze. Ella knew that look; Ethan had figured out a solution to a difficult problem, and he knew that everyone else in the situation would eventually have to come around to that solution, because it was simply the best way forward for everyone.

Ethan went on, “You’ve given out that Steve Rogers is dead. My son believes you. Sarah is too young to even remember Steve, really. You’re Joseph Grant, a distant relative of Steve’s, and you’re an old man; retired. Even if your enemies have been Restored... how likely is it, do you think, that they’d find you here?”

Understanding began to dawn in Steve’s tired old eyes. He actually guffawed. “Not very,” he said simply.

Ethan laughed, now, too. He turned to look at Ella, and she suddenly knew what he was about to say. “Well, then I think Grandpa Joseph should live with us.”

Ella felt a strange mix of hope, because the idea that Steve could stay with them for the long-term was something she’d never thought possible... And also disappointment, because Steve would have to be Joseph, from now on. And their relationship would of course be very different than it had been.

Steve looked at Ella, too, and said, “I wouldn’t dream of staying, against the wishes of the lady of the house.”

Ella looked back at Steve, who was smiling. He liked the idea; she could tell, he wanted to stay. There was such merriment in his face, she couldn’t help smiling back at him. She laughed, and said, “Of course you can stay with us, Grandpa Joseph. But on one condition.”

Steve said, “What would that be?”

Ella laughed. “Never call me ‘the lady of the house’ again.”

Steve laughed out loud, and said, “Sorry, I’ll admit I did become somewhat... naturalized, to the ‘40s and ‘50s. It may take a while to unlearn it.”

Ella stood and moved over to Steve, and leaned down to wrap her arms around him. She said, “Fortunately we can be patient with you.”

He murmured to her, “I once asked you, how you would feel about me, if I didn’t look like I did.”

Ella laughed, finding herself crying a little. She said, “Well, I’ll admit I’m less eager to jump your bones.” He chuckled and said, “Just as well, I think. I’ve lost my appetite for that type of activity, anyway.” 

Ella nodded, and said, “But my answer now, as it was then, still stands. This is going to take some getting used to, but I love you now just as much as I loved you then, and as much as I would have loved the shy, asthmatic you.”

Steve chuckled weakly, and Ella could feel that he was crying. She just wrapped her arms around him tighter, holding him close. Ethan said, “I’ll just make up Naija’s room for you, for now. But we’ll change the downstairs office to be yours. Take your time with the tea.” He stepped close to the two of them, put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve put his free hand on Ethan’s, and Ella felt him give Ethan a squeeze.

Ethan said to him, “It’s good to have you back.”

Steve smiled up at him. “It’s good to be back.”


	52. Chapter 52

### Epilogue

__

_April 21st, 2034_

_Dear Grandpa Joseph,_

_I just found out something really weird about you. I’m not sure how to talk to you about it. My mom sometimes tells me to write letters to someone, to help figure out what to say to them. She says it helps her, even if she doesn’t ever give the person the letter. So I’m trying that right now._

_You’ve lived with us for as long as I can remember. At some point, someone said to me that you weren’t my real grandpa. But you were always there for me, so I either didn’t believe them, or figured it didn’t matter. Lots of my friends have random family members who live with them, or close family friends, and mom and dad are always saying that family isn’t about blood, anyway. That families are what we make them, that it’s about how we care about each other and how we support each other._

_Anyway... so, a month ago, I was doing something I shouldn’t. That was my fault. But I was poking around in my mom’s room. And I found some letters she’d hidden in a compartment in her bed, and they were from someone named Steve. It took me a while, but I worked out that he was Steve Rogers – Captain America! And they were love letters. My mother had dated Captain America? Why had she never told me about that? It’s not like she hides lots of things from me, and that’s a pretty good story!_

_But then I found a weird box behind them. It said “For Sarah, on her 18th birthday.” I swear I didn’t mean to open it, I know I’m only 13, but there was a thumb pad, and I touched it, and the box opened and... well, I read the letter. And I found out why mom had never told me about Steve._

_I put all the letters back, and the box, and for a week or two, I tried to forget about it. But I just kept thinking about what it meant. And there was something weirdly familiar about the picture of me and him when I was a year old – it was in with the letter – and I knew it couldn’t be that I remembered something from when I was only one._

_Mom and dad told me my biological father had died when I was little. And I knew that Captain America, well, Steve Rogers anyway, had died fighting in New York back in 2023, just the same as Tony Stark had. They had a funeral for him and everything. But... trying to get used to the idea that those two things were connected... it was just too weird to think that the father I never knew had been Captain America. But I sort of got used to the idea, I guess. As much as you can get used to something like that._

_Anyway, then, last week, I was working on my algebra homework. You and mom were in the other room, sitting at the dining table together. And I heard you say something about how she told you, way back in 2014, that you shouldn’t be alone. That she’s always reminded you that you need support, and you were always grateful for her support. And it sounded weirdly familiar, and you know I have a really good memory. I thought I knew where I’d heard it before – and recently, too. And then you said you'd kept all her letters, and she said she had too. If I hadn't just read her letters, I would never have even noticed that. I mean, people write letters! No big. But it couldn't just be coincidence..._

_So later that day I snuck back in to mom’s room and checked, and Steve had said something just like that to her, thanking her for her support, back then. And I pulled out the photos of me from the weird box, and I snuck back downstairs, and I looked at the picture of Steve with me when I was one year old... and then I looked at a picture of you with me when I was two, the one on the mantle… And that was what had seemed so familiar about the photo of Steve, it had reminded me of the picture of me with you. And, I’m not sure I can explain it, but... it was like suddenly I saw it all, I saw everything at once. A flash of insight, where my mind just assembled everything I knew about you._

_You’re Steve. You’re my biological father. You’ve been here, all along. I know Steve Rogers is supposed to be dead. And you’re really old, and he wouldn’t have been, if he had survived. But... it just has to be you. There’s no other way it all works out._

_So... I don’t know what to say to you. I’m thinking of just leaving this letter on your bed tomorrow. And then maybe we can talk about it._

_Anyway... I think... maybe it’s important that I say that even though this is really weird, I’m really glad that you’ve been here all this time. I’m really glad you’ve been in my life, especially if you thought, back when I was born, that you would have to stay away. You have always supported me, been there for me. I love you very much, and I know how much you love me. And I think that’s probably the most important thing._

_Your daughter,_

_Sarah_

__

~*~

Ella came home from teaching class on campus, exhausted. As she came in the door, she saw Thomas sprawled in the living room playing a video game. His limbs stuck off the ends of the couch; somehow he’d ended up even taller than his father. She said to him, “If you’re going to be doing that, you’d better hope your final paper for your senior project is done, young man.”

Thomas blew a raspberry at her. “Oh, come on, mom. You know it’s mostly done. I just have to edit it one last time. I can do that tomorrow.”

Ella sighed. The trouble was, he was right. Thomas was fast at most academics. Especially writing. In fact, he’d made noises about wanting to be a writer. Ethan had tried to encourage Thomas to consider engineering, and Ella had privately thought that there was time yet for Thomas to work that out. She’d teased Ethan that university education was all about finding out what was possible, and she didn’t doubt that Thomas would find his way to engineering at some point, given his aptitudes. “But, Ethan, you have to let him see what else he loves. That’s the whole point,” she’d said. Ethan had relented.

So Ella just said to Thomas, “Come on, sit up a bit better then. You never know when it will catch up to you, later, you know, bad posture.”

“Jeez, mom, what’s got into you?” Thomas asked, sparing an annoyed glance at her. “Oh, I don’t know,” Ella replied to her son. “Maybe I just watched a lot of undergraduates slumping over their desks this afternoon and thought, ‘that’s going to be Thomas, soon.’” She walked over and stroked Thomas’ kinky hair. He’d taken to keeping it short, which she privately thought looked really good. He was going to attract a lot of attention, when he got out in the world. 

Ella sighed, feeling that wave of worry about him going out there... wondering what kinds of experiences, good and bad, he was going to have, whether he would attract the right kind of attention or the wrong kind... The world of the 2030s was a lot safer for a confident, attractive, young man of color than the world Ella had grown up in, but there were still some disparities... and she still felt protective of him, just the same. What if something bad happened, and she and Ethan didn’t know about it?

Then Ella reminded herself that her parents had always just let her follow her own path, and tell them what she was comfortable telling them. She wondered how they’d managed that. In particular, they’d never once asked who Sarah’s biological father was. And they’d accepted that ‘Grandpa Joseph’ had come to live with them, Naija, and the kids. Despite the fact that it made the house pretty crowded. Sarah, for one, was overjoyed to get her own room as soon as Thomas went off to college.

Ella bent down and kissed Thomas’ forehead. “You know I have complete faith in you, right, love?” Thomas said, “Yeah, I know.”

She laughed at his distracted tone. She knew he knew, even if she didn’t have his full attention. “Still, just don’t forget to do that edit, all right?” Thomas nodded. 

Satisfied for the moment, Ella turned to head into the dining room, and then heard something that caught her attention: the sound of Sarah crying. Where was it coming from, she wondered? Sarah had been acting a little stranger than usual in the last month or so. Ella knew that at age 13, all sorts of things start coming up with peers at school and on sleepovers, and hormones start raging... she’d been trying to keep an eye on what was going on with her daughter, but also trying to stay out of it. She just fervently hoped that Sarah would trust her, if something happened that she needed help sorting out.

Ella realized the sound was coming from the downstairs bedroom. Speaking of Grandpa Joseph, Ella thought. Sarah did often go to him when she was upset, even now that she was older. Ella thought gratefully that it was so wonderful that he had been here, over the years. For so many reasons.

She walked over to the downstairs bedroom, knocked softly on the door, and let herself in tentatively, as she usually did. She found Sarah, wrapped in a tight embrace with her Grandpa Joseph, and she was sobbing. He had some tears in his eyes, too.

Concerned, Ella came over and sat on the bed, on the other side of Sarah. She looked at Grandpa Joseph, and he said to her, with a knowing look in his eyes, “Guess who figured it out.”

Ella didn’t know what he meant, for a moment. But then something about the way he'd said it, and how he was looking at her, made her realize that he must mean that Sarah had worked out who he was.

She put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, “Sweetie... I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, earlier...”

Sarah let go of him and sat up. She looked at her mother, and Ella saw that they were happy tears. She said, “No, I... I read the letters. Sorry about that...” Sarah added, seeing Ella’s horror. She jumped back in before Ella could scold her, and said, “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have been poking around in your room. But... I found the letters. And I figured it out.”

Ella nodded, letting the privacy issue slide for the moment, and started to feel some tears starting, too. She said to Sarah, “Well, then I hope you know that it was for your protection, back then... and then, when he came to live with us, it just didn’t seem as important to tell you about Steve. You didn’t remember him as Steve, anyway. I guess maybe we thought we’d still tell you, when you were older, but... it hadn’t really come up, yet.”

Sarah sniffled. She looked over at Steve, who just smiled at her. Then she said to the two of them, “I mean, it was kind of gross, at first. You guys must have... done it, then?”

Ella and Steve both laughed. Ella said, “Well, your father wasn’t this old then – he was actually a bit younger than me, physically at least, when you were born; and then some strange things happened to him just after you turned two years old.” In a world where half the living things in the Universe were five years older than the other half, somehow that statement was easy for Sarah to accept without question. At the moment, at least.

So their daughter breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. Okay, good.”

Steve spoke up. He said, “Well, now that you know... we have some great stories for you. Like the time your mother met Tony Stark, and didn’t know what to say to him.” Ella gently punched Steve in the arm and laughed. He mock-rubbed it and smiled back at her. Then he raised an eyebrow, and said, “And how he was the one who set us up.” Ella laughed a little harder. “I’ll definitely leave that one for you to tell. Keep it clean, okay?” Steve nodded at her conspiratorially.

Sarah said, suddenly, “And that means that Aunt Sharon and Uncle Bucky... when they come visit... they must be here to see you?” Steve nodded.

Sarah smiled at them both wetly. “Okay, yeah. I think I want to hear *all* the stories.”

Ella laughed and said, “There are so many...”

Sarah looked at her with determination. Truly her father’s daughter, Ella thought to herself. Sarah said, “Then you’d better get started!”

Laughing, Steve said, “Well, let’s start with Sarah and Joseph Rogers. My parents were married back before World War I. You remember that everyone thought that war was so terrible, they called it the Great War? Because no one dreamed that something that terrible would ever happen again. And... I never met my father... that’s why I’m using his name, now. And... that’s why I’m glad you know, now, that you *have* met your father.”

Sarah nodded. Ella leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head, kissed Steve on the cheek, and left them to it. As she was closing the door, she heard Steve say to his daughter with a surprisingly wicked grin on his face, “Let me tell you about your Uncle Bucky, when he was still in high school...” 

Ella smiled, standing for a moment on the other side of the closed door. She heard Sarah laughing at whatever Steve was telling her. All was as it should be, Ella thought, and went in to join Ethan in making dinner for their family. *All* of their family.


	53. Chapter 53

###  Author’s Note 

“Love Letters” refers to more than romantic love – the letter you’d keep in your drawer, under your pillow, in your safe, because it is a piece of a person who is that important to you.

This piece began as a self-indulgent bit of self-insertion, back in June 2015. Something along the lines of: "What if I actually fell for Steve? And what if we dated a little?" ...and then "What if I could share all the things I love most in the world with him, like with anyone you date?" and "What if I could discuss all the interesting aspects of my life and his life with him?" And then over the last four years, I added to it, and then edited it, and it evolved, and then this year (2019), did a substantial edit in which Ella became quite distinct from me, with a story and personality and background all her own. (Note that I am not myself mixed-race, but I have friends who are, and I have also had some similar experiences to what happens with Ella along some other dimensions of difference in certain contexts.) And the story became something that was very intentionally about the ways in which Steve is a normal person with typical needs for intimacy, safety, and comfort – and how that is often in conflict with the aspects of his personality and life that have to do with being a superhero. You don’t see that vulnerability very much in the movies, but it’s strongly implied and he’s a likable enough character that it’s not so hard to imagine. 

Initially I just fell in love with the character, and imagined what it would be like to share the things I love with him. But it was also about wanting to explore what Steve thinks about himself, about those he loves, and about the world he’s come to live in and the things that happen to him. About how he adapts, how he reacts to some of the things he would probably find surprising about the world of the 2010s. In that way, he can be a kind of beloved outsider, reflecting on where we are right now. And he definitely has an arc through the movies, as he becomes better adjusted to the 21st century, more worldly, and more jaded. But we don’t see all of that evolution on-screen, so there’s room to reflect and speculate on what the experiences were, and who the people were, who helped him get from the Steve we see in First Avenger, to the one who shows up midway through Infinity War. And what he thinks about the process.

And it also became a story about how we, in all our little imperfections, and shortcomings, are in many ways no different than superheroes (especially as they've been depicted recently, with all their flaws, foibles, and humanity). It was about writing yourself into the narrative, in all your mediocre glory, and having Cap say that you're not mediocre. About pushing back on the superhero narrative, showing that a normal person could offer comfort and friendship to a superhero. We can love them as people, but they can love us as people too. 

So I left in many of the little details about the things I love, the things I believe; and most of the details of this story are based on real people and places, except for those directly from the MCU. And if there are things that bother you about Ella, then that's because she's meant to be very real. Which means we're all annoying and insecure sometimes, and brave and happy other times. And why would Steve be friends with this person? Because of a consistent, long-term set of interactions where he can talk to her about things that trouble him or make him happy, and she’s there for him. I also wanted to represent some of the real challenges in actual relationships, not just make this an exercise in ‘happily ever after.’ These relationships have a heavy emphasis on communication, which is perhaps a bit unusual, but it still isn’t just a fairy tale: it requires real work on the part of the characters, just like in real life.

The story is also about choices we make, about relationships we choose and some we don't, about how we rely on each other at different times. It's about a web of relationships between characters who love each other and find ways to mutually support each other. In the end, it's about alternative family configurations – polyamory, and/or an extended family through friendship, through lovers, and through parents. Steve might not have originally chosen the family he ends up with, but they still sustain him when things get rough; and in the end, I think he sees how all the rules of his society have resulted in some pretty messed up shit, so he’d be more comfortable by the end of the story with defining his own relationships, defining the rules with those he loves, and not accepting the boxes society originally taught him to use. And that follows into his choices at the end of Endgame.

I struggled long and hard with how to incorporate Infinity War and Endgame into my story; most of Love Letters was written before either of the movies came out. (In fact, I’ve posted an alternate ending that I’d already written before I saw Endgame.) I really felt that the time travel mechanics were sloppy, and their choice to have Steve stay with Peggy in the ‘40s was very out-of-character. (Also, I had the idea to disguise Steve with a beard long before Infinity War, Russos.) In the end, after a lot of mental gymnastics to make the plot the MCU had set up actually *work* (both from a character/story standpoint, being true to Steve’s core values and arc, and also from a time travel/mechanics standpoint), I ended up embracing the idea of Steve coming back from the end of the story aged, because I liked that it meant he could rejoin Ella and company. I sort of figure the idea of Steve’s age/experience difference and how it impacts his relationship with both 1940s Peggy and 2020s Ella is a bit like how “The Time Traveller’s Wife” works; there’s still a connection that somehow works at a level beyond the specifics of where the characters are at any given point. Also I liked the idea of Sarah growing up with Steve around, but thinking he’s her grandfather and not knowing who he really is. And therefore enabling a reveal at the end which is more about how you take people for granted and less about finding out who he is out of the blue. In the end, I used the aging device the same way the Russos and company used it: as a reason why Steve (and Evans) could just finally stop being Captain America. And that meant that my story could rest there – to travel the arc from almost the beginning (just after The Avengers), all the way to the end of Cap’s MCU story.

### Acknowledgments: 

This story takes place in and among Marvel Studio's "Avengers," "Captain America: Winter Soldier," "Avengers: Age of Ultron," "Captain America: Civil War,” “Avengers: Infinity War,” and “Avengers: Endgame,” and makes reference to "Captain America: The First Avenger" and "Thor: the Dark World." The vast majority of the piece is original material (missing scenes), with two exceptions of scenes from “Winter Soldier,” and bits and pieces of the “Avengers: Endgame” time heist. I have tried to remain true to the depictions of events and characters in these sources, partly out of respect to the work their creators have put into them, and partly because it's more fun to read it alongside the movies and have it maintain continuity with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I am therefore deeply grateful to the work of the directors and writers of these movies, and especially to Chris Evans as he has created his particular Steve Rogers, who I've found quite compelling on many levels. Of course the debt goes back to the comics, as well, and I hope that by recognizing the movie-makers and actors of these 2010s movies I can implicitly appreciate the original source material though I myself am not very familiar with it. Many thanks to my real-life Ethan for periodic beta reading of key scenes, and to the AO3 readers who were giving me positive feedback as I was working through the rewrite and posting the piece chapter by chapter.


End file.
